


The War of the Winchesters

by amusawale



Series: War of the Winchesters [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Children, Custody Arrangements, Custody Battle, Divorce, Established Relationship, Fluff and Angst, Implied Mpreg, M/M, Marriage, Multi, duped!Dean, lawyer!Sam, lying!Sam
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-15
Updated: 2016-06-18
Packaged: 2018-04-21 00:22:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 33
Words: 32,252
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4807799
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amusawale/pseuds/amusawale
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam and Dean are married with children. They're still brothers in an alternate universe where men are able to procreate. Shit happens and Dean leaves. A nasty divorce ensues. Has Sam lost Dean forever, or will the War of the Winchesters end better than the War of the Roses?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

“You’re really leaving?”, Sam asked in disbelief as Dean stuffed his duffle bag haphazardly with clothes and shit.  
“Yep. I’m out. I’ve had it. Sayonara bitches”, Dean said, his voice dripping with bitterness.  
“Dean…”, Sam said literally rendered speechless, “What about the kids?” he said at last, triumphantly. Whatever Sam had done; and he conceded that…maybe…he hadn’t been the best husband he could be…Dean would never walk away from his kids. It wasn’t in him.  
“I’m sure we can come to some arrangement about the kids”, Dean said not even slowing down the packing. Sam was feeling the insistent itch of panic in his mid section. This wasn’t happening to them. Not Sam and Dean. Not after all the shit they went through to get here. It wasn’t possible.  
“Dean…please”, he begged, allowing a little bit of that desperation to bleed into his tone.  
Dean ignored him. Actually downright ignored him. Sam could not fathom it. He took a deep breath and went to stand by the door of their bedroom. The kids were at school; Sam was late for work, the house was empty of anyone but them two. He blocked the doorway, a determined look on his face. If he had to, he’d lock Dean in here until he came to his senses.  
Dean finished packing and slung the duffle over his shoulder. He walked toward the door like Sam wasn’t standing in front of him, arms akimbo, ready and waiting for him; refusing him passage.  
“Dean…no”, he said as his brother stopped in front of him. There was a flurry of movement and suddenly there was a big ‘ol black .45 in his face.  
“Get out of my way Sam”, Dean said, his voice cold in a way that Sam had never heard directed at him.  
He opened hi s mouth to tell Dean that he couldn’t possibly mean it but then he caught a glimpse of the murder in Dean’s gorgeous green eyes…and moved out of the way.  
Dean brushed past him, without so much as a sideways glance; and he was descending the stairs like he really intended to go.  
Sam decided to try one more thing, “I’m sorry Dean”, he said.  
Dean actually stopped on the third stair from the bottom. He turned his head, and his eyes met Sam’s. The hope that had flared in Sam’s chest, jump starting his heart beat like a shot of adrenaline died an ignominious death. The fury in Dean’s green eyes said that ‘sorry’ might be too little, too fucking late.  
“My lawyer will be in touch”, Dean ground out before disappearing out the door and squealing down the driveway in a cloud of gravel, dust and anger; the black matte of the impala dusted with grey as it disappeared out the gate.  
“You’ll be back Dean”, Sam told the empty driveway, “You never could resist me.”


	2. What Happened Before He Left

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What the fuck happened to make Dean leave like that?

Sam stood in the arched doorway, watching his life disappear out the electric gates. The maid would be here in exactly...Sam looked at his watch...ten minutes ago. Had she heard what transpired? He hoped not. Genevieve was a super efficient maid...and an incessant gossip. Sam knew that for a fact because he'd been on the receiving end of some of her stories - he wasn't above a little exchange of information especially if it was to his advantage. People knowing that Dean had taken off from their home with a squeal of tires at nine o'clock in the morning would not be to his advantage. They were prominent members of their community and people were always looking for ways to bring you down when you were on top.

He wandered back into the house, listening for the sound of the vacuum cleaner or any other indication that the maid was in. So far the silence was total. He climbed back up the stairs to their room, and stood at the door, staring at the still unmade bed. Was it just a few hours ago that they had lain entangled in those sheets? Legs and hands and hearts so intertwined it was hard to know where one ended and the other began. He'd been feeling so contented; at peace for the first time in...he couldn't remember how long. He could hear the kids squealing as they got ready for school; normally Dean would be right there, squealing right along with them...but he'd come in late last night, he was still tired. So they'd both left it to the nanny to prepare Jupiter and Jasmine for school and take them to the bus. The twins were a handful on any given morning. They were a little less crazy when the it was Connor they had to deal with though. So Sam was happy to leave it to the nanny to do most of the heavy lifting. Dean on the other hand, had that working parent guilt thing going with him; so he liked to get involved. It was cute.

Sam had work. He had a board meeting which he'd called; it would be awkward if he didn't attend. How was he supposed to care about whether keeping Lindsay Lohan as a client was worth the aggravation of trying to collect their lawyer's fees? Although she really did rack them up. And she paid...eventually. Still, worrying about shit like that when Dean was gone was just not within his sphere of capabilities right now. Maybe he'd suggest that they hire an enforcer to threaten to break her knee caps if she was late with payments again. Sam shrugged inwardly; the way he was feeling right now - _he'd_ be willing to break someone's kneecaps no problem.

He shambled forward and sat down heavily on the bed with a sigh, caressing the sheets softly and gently, the way that Dean had caressed him this morning. Sleepy and lazy, not trying for arousal, simply connection. Ironically when Dean touched him like that, not meaning anything by it, it lit Sam up like a comet. His dick had been so hard, and leaking; painful even. But he'd ignored it and leaned back into Dean's touch, letting him explore with freedom. Sooner or later, Dean's hands would wander downward, and he would feel the effects of his touch. He might chuckle smugly, maybe smirk against Sam's ear where the brush of Dean's warm breath was causing all sorts of commotion to Sam's nervous system. He could _literally_ feel his brain shutting down as his body shuddered uncontrollably. _That_ was when he expected a smirk from the hard, warm body big spooning him, instead he got an answering shudder and Dean's hand stuttered where it was tracing his abs. 

 _"Sam"_ he murmured, and his voice was reverent as he said it. Sam could feel himself melt into a warm puddle of want and need. He turned around to face Dean and found that his eyes were open and soft, and trained on him; heart worn proudly on his sleeve.

"G'morning", Dean said, his gravelly voice going straight to Sam's cock and make it jump and leak, sending frantic messages of lust up his nerve endings. 

"Morning", Sam replied, almost unable to speak with how much he wanted.

"Did you sleep well?" Dean was just teasing now. There was no way he didn't know that Sam was at the point of spontaneous combustion. 

"Er yeah, you?" If Dean wanted to play, Sam could play.

"Ugh, I slept like a crazed polar bear. I think I'm more tired now than I was when I lay down", he said stretching languorously, his long limbs always graceful displayed in all their glory.

"Oh", Sam said in a small voice. Was Dean saying he didn't want to? He _never_ didn't want to! Or at least...he never said no. Not to Sam.

Dean's hands stretched out to him, pulling him into embrace; his strong hands cupped Sam's face and he kissed his lip; gently, gently - a message of love and devotion that he might not be able to articulate but which he showed every day with his touch, and his deeds.

' _Me too Dean'_ Sam thought back at him.

Suddenly the realization hit him; _Now_. _This_ was the right time. 

He'd been feeling it for some time now; an unfamiliar red hot coil in his gut every time he looked at Dean playing with the kids; or he came home from a hard day subverting justice and Dean would have his favourite meal on the table, pleased smile on his face for having done something nice for Sam. And he would find the thought fleeting through his mind.

_'I have to tell him.'_

But it had never been the right time. Until now; suddenly he'd known that it was now or never. He was sure of Dean; hell if he was a hundred percent honest? He took Dean for granted. Three things were certain in his world; Death, Taxes and Dean. Whatever he did, be it eat the last of the cereal when Dean was starving or abandon him without a word for college or start the fucking apocalypse and raise the effing devil...he could rely on Dean ALWAYS having his backand forgiving him. So this little thing? No way it would break them...right?

So why the fuck had Dean left him?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading.


	3. What Dean Thought

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just what the title says.

Dean could barely see. He didn’t know if it was the wind or what but moisture was really burning his eyes. He blamed the stupid cleaner Sam insisted on using on the car seats last week when Jasmine had spilled soda pop everywhere. He’d apologized profusely promising to clean it up so well that Dean wouldn’t even know the red stain had ever existed. Ha. As if. Little did Sam know that Dean had stopped caring about random spills on the car seats. These were his kids; he wanted them to make their mark on the car. Just like Sam and Dean had, when they were kids.  
Sam.  
It hurt to even think his name.  
Dean had no idea where he was going. He just knew he had to get away. Away from Sam. Away from the memory of his words this morning. Each one of them a knife in his gut. He looked down; for a minute, through the sheen of te-, er, moisture in his eyes he thought he could almost see his guts spilling out, spreading in random coils over his legs and thumping down on the car floor, collecting germs and infection that would kill him slow but sure. If the wound let him live long enough to die of infection. He blinked once, and the fantasy was gone. His stomach was whole and he was going to live through this. Fuck.  
∞  
Six years ago, a funny thing had happened to them on a hunt. They’d caught wind of a coven of witches, who had apparently removed themselves from society and were living in caves among the faces of presidents at the grand canyon. The problem was that, even though they weren’t harming anyone, the concentration of magic at that spot was causing strange things to happen. Inexplicable things; things which were being reported on the news. Sam and Dean had decided to go over; have a talk with them. Kevin was researching the third trial; they were at a loose end. So why not? Dean had always wanted to see the grand canyon; and they’d never seemed to get around to it. Combine a little work with a little play and voila! Item crossed off the bucket list.   
The witches were a bit wary of them; they’d heard of the Winchesters after all; especially Dean’s antipathy. They’d knocked him out first thing, as soon as they understood who it was that had come a knocking. Sam must have talked them around though because they did revive him eventually. They explained about the problems they were causing, and the potentially bigger problems of the general population finding out that magic, and witches and a whole hell of other things, were real as fuck.  
“So…you’re saying that in this realm, people generally do not know about the things that go bump in the dark?” the witches’ spokesperson, inexplicably named Harry even though she looked female, had asked.  
“In this realm?” Sam had asked, all curiosity and ready to learn-ness.  
Harry had looked at him with a smile, “Surely you don’t believe you’re alone in the universe Samuel Winchester?” she chided.  
“No…but we don’t really have any knowledge of-“ Sam had began before Harry had cut him off.  
“Well be that as it may, you have not answered my question.”  
“No”, Dean said in his most irritable tone, “people don’t know about all that shit here.”  
“Hmm”, Harry said like she found that most interesting. Her eyes were still on Sam though.  
“You are attempting the trials”, she said after a small silence. It was not a question.  
“How do you know that?” Dean asked stepping in front of Sam immediately.  
Harry smiled, “They will kill you, you know?” she said, continuing to speak to Sam as if Dean wasn’t standing in front of him. Dean lunged at her, grabbing her black robes and attempting strangulation.  
“What are you talkin’ about”, he demanded. There was a flash of light, and that’s all he knew. When he woke up, he was lying on a bed, in a hotel room. He’d never seen this hotel room before. It wasn’t like any of the hotel rooms they’d ever booked before. No. this one was like four times bigger, the sheets were clean, the bed comfortable and the room big enough to park the impala in; if they could get it up this high. Sam was sitting at the table, in different clothes than they’d been in, typing.   
“Sam?” Dean had asked, not sure…  
Sam turned to face him and smiled, “Good. You’re awake. I have some news.”  
Dean’s eyes had widened in enquiry though he said nothing.  
“Remember those realms the witch was talkin about just about before she kicked your ass?” he asked deadpan. Dean glared at him.  
“Well, we’ve been sent to one of them. The witches used another spell to close the gates of hell for us. But they said if we stayed in that realm, I would die because I was already too far gone. They suggested moving us here. I figured that I’d save you a lot of aggravation, finding demons to make deals with, and just agree to their terms. And here we are.”  
That’s the story Sam told him. And he’d believed it. Until today.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you for reading.


	4. Backstory

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Okay yeah, Sam knew that it was wrong but it was the only way he could see to get himself and Dean out. It was an opportunity. It came a knocking. Sam grabbed it.  
> Should he have talked to Dean about it? Probably.  
> Would he do it over again if he had the chance? Probably.

Okay yeah, Sam knew that it was wrong but it was the only way he could see to get himself and Dean out. It was an opportunity. It came a knocking. Sam grabbed it.  
Should he have talked to Dean about it? Probably.  
Would he do it over again if he had the chance? Probably.  
Because their life was good. Hell, their life was great any way you chose to look at it. They had two great kids they would never otherwise have expected to have. Their life expectancy is like…quadruple anything they might have expected on earth. It was a win win win. And all it had taken was the smallest fib. Not even worth talking about really. Sam swerved his monster truck to avoid hitting the revenant shambling across the road. He briefly contemplated ramming it but really couldn’t be bothered with the subsequent car wash that would require. Revenants were messy, brains and shit splattered all over the place. So unsanitary. And the kids liked to climb all over the truck, it was one of their favourite ‘playthings’. So there was no way Sam could put off washing the ick off. And he did not have time for mundane stuff today. He had to get through the motherfucking board meeting then spend the rest of the day finding his brother and dragging him home, fucking some sense into him and putting this whole effing misunderstanding behind them.  
So the witches hadn’t exactly closed the gates of hell. That could be considered at worst, a white lie. There was no need for Dean to lie awake at night thinking about things he couldn’t change. So Sam neglected to mention it. The deal was done and there was no going back. It was true what the witches had said about him dying. He would have died if they had stayed. He knew that in his bones; he could feel his body breaking down one cell at a time. It had began as soon as he’d said the spell the first time; when he’d killed that hound of hell. So Dean wouldn’t have to. Because Dean was on a suicide mission; Sam knew that. And he hadn’t been ready to be left alone in the cruel world that that earth had been…for one thing, he was pretty sure that hell wasn’t done with him yet. What with one thing and another, he’d managed to pretty much piss everyone off down there. And it wasn’t like heaven gave a fig about him. They were all about Dean..So really being left on his own to tackle the aftermath of Dean’s untimely demise was not a prospect he was willing to contemplate. Alright, and…maybe…he didn’t really want to live without Dean but that was neither here nor there. It was beside the point. Dean belonged to him. They had established that.  
It had began soon after Dean woke up in the Beverly Hills Hilton Sam had booked them into when they’d arrived at this realm. As part of his deal with the witches, 33 million US was to be deposited in a bank account in their name as compensation for generally leading a crappy life. A million for every year of Sam’s life. The amount was child’s play to witches with the kind of power these ones had and they agreed without demur. The other conditions of the deal were probably the source of Dean’s heebie jeebies. It could be the fact that in order to save Sam’s life, the witches had made him a chimera; half man, half beast. The beast part consisting of a little bit of lizard for their healing, a little bit of African bat bug because Sam was required to consume copious amounts of demon blood for the ritual and a little bit of wolf because they mate for life. The last one was the witches’ little joke, thrown in because they figured Sam and Dean were already as irreparably intertwined as Bob Marley’s dreadlocks anyway, might as well make it official. They didn’t tell him though, oh no, he was left to find out that fun fact by himself. Also in order to make it all happen, asacrificehadtobemade. A big sacrifice which would open a portal through the realms; its possible that the entire state of Texas might have vanished into the sea. It was no biggie! Fifty something states still remained right?  
It was Sam’s mixed genes that enabled him to bear children. The bat bug was a gender bender; another fun fact that the witches had neglected to mention. Sam had been sick as a dog when they arrived in this realm. Being turned into a chimera was hell on the body, and his system was already weakened from all the Trial stuff. It had started with a flu that wouldn’t quit; but then just got worse and worse. Dean had looked after him like the typical mother hen he was, at some point he’d even had Sam admitted to hospital. Sam had checked himself out after two days because a) he knew that the hospital could do jack shit for him and b) he didn’t want them to do too many tests on him. In this realm, the Supernatural was common knowledge but Dean didn’t know about the Chimera thing and Sam wasn’t ready for him to find out. Dean had dropped everything to nurse him; wiping the excess of sweat from his brow, helping him to shower, go to the loo, change his clothes when he got too weak to do it for himself, fed him, entertained him, slept wrapped around him when he couldn’t get warm…he was and did everything for Sam.  
They weren’t having sex at the time.   
Sure, in their old world they’d had that weirdly close to the exclusion of everyone else relationship. And if Sam was honest he’d never liked any of Dean’s women. However, it was just normal sibling possessiveness. Every sibling could relate to that shit right? But there was no…extra stuff. No kissing, inappropriate touching, butterflies in the stomach…  
But then they’d come to this realm where no one knew they were brothers. And Dean was taking such good care of Sam when he got sick. In the middle of his illness, the bat bug thing combined with the wolf thing to produce a heat on Sam that was out of control. Of course Sam didn’t know what it was at the time, all he knew was that he was in pain. Horrible, excruciating pain centered in his groin. To his eternal mortification, he’d burst into tears. Dean had covered Sam’s body with his, rubbing his skin gently and soothing his heated brow. Sam had arched into the touch, almost growling with his need for more. He was also still crying.  
“Shhh, I’ll take care of you”, he whispered, blowing cool air onto Sam’s skin.  
“Off”, Sam whispered squirming out of his shirt and wiggling butt to move his tracks off them. Dean didn’t hesitate. He helped Sam take off the shirt and his track suit pants, wiped him down with lukewarm water and blew on his skin to ease the pain. Sam was rubbing his stomach the whole time, not too far gone to just grab his junk in front of his brother. Still, his empurpled, swollen dick might have been a clue as to what the trouble was because the next thing Sam knew, dean had coated his hands with lotion and was rubbing him up and down, up and down. It was enough of a shock for Sam to come back to himself and look Dean in the face; searching for he knew not what. Dean’s callused hand on his dick was so out of his experience that he almost couldn’t assimilate it. It was like a fish had walked into the room, twirled its hat and began to tap dance. Of course, in this realm, it wasn’t beyond the bounds of possibility.   
“Dean?” Sam said.  
“Yeah Sam?” Dean had said, his face still impassive while his hand continued to caress, knead and generally bring Sam off with startling expertise. Startling because Sam never expected that expertise to be applied to himself.  
“What are you doing?”  
“You notice you’ve stopped crying?”  
“Yeah but…I wouldn’t ask you-“  
“I know. Shut up.”  
For some inexplicable reason, Dean telling him to shut up pushed Sam over the edge and to his eternal embarrassment, he blew his load all over Dean’s hand. Worse. Dean just grabbed the wet cloth he’d been using to rub him down and casually cleaned the spunk off his hand. Sam had looked down, wondering if he should return the favour but Dean had seemed to notice, stood up quickly and went to get him some grape juice to rehydrate. That night though, Sam had began shivering with cold again so Dean wrapped himself around him to warm him up. Once the shaking stopped, Sam was left to contemplate the feel of muscled, tempting, gorgeous length of male plastered to his back; smell of whiskey, leather, engine oil and home. He’d been unable to avoid squirming; which became pushing his pert little butt into Dean’s pelvis. Dean remained unmoved and unmoving. When Sam couldn’t take it anymore he whipped around to face Dean and climbed on top of him.  
“I know this is awkward as hell big brother but I feel like if you don’t insert your penis inside of me in the next five minutes I will die.” He said, sincerity in every word.  
Dean huffed a laugh and rolled his eyes, “Always so dramatic”, he said but he was pushing down his boxers and liberating his slightly engorged member. Sam’s eyes lit on it and then his hands were circling it, struggling to control the urge to go ham on it (pun intended) and just pull it right off and swallow it down whole; then flip Dean over and eat out his ass like groceries. Sam didn’t know what was happening to him. He didn’t have the extra brain cells to think too much about it. He was too hot in all senses of the word. He wanted.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you for reading


	5. Sex Drugs and Rock n Roll

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Sam sto-“, Dean began but Sam leaned in and placed his lips on Dean’s and thrust his tongue into Dean’s mouth.

“Why did you do it?” Sam asked as he lay in brain dead repletion when Dean was through with him. His mouth was just running off by itself at this point. Sam had no input in what it was saying.

“Do what?” Dean asked.

His eyes were closed and he was breathing deeply. But Sam knew he wasn’t asleep. For one thing, he hadn’t got off yet. He was just lying there, running his hand up from his thigh over his still hard dick, and onto his stomach…and then down again. So he’d fucked Sam’s lights out, but he hadn’t come himself. What. The fuck?

“Why did you fuck me Dean?” Sam asked even managing to lift his head a bit and turn it to face his brother.

Dean also turned to face him, wearing Sam’s own bitchface number nine. The one which was the visual equivalent of ‘are you blind, deaf and retarded?’

“Did you even look at yourself Sam? You had veins bursting out of your skin like creepy, red snakes. Its like you had poison spreading in you whatchamacallit? When your fever gets really high and your veins are turning black or something and spreading like toxic tendrils all over the place?”

“You mean sepsis?” Sam asked in disbelief.

“Yeah, exactly. But when I touched you, when I blew on you; they went away…and they didn’t return. You musta caught something when we jumped here man. And whatever it is, it needed you to be fucked. Don’t know if youda got that reaction with anyone, or it had to be me but…” Dean trailed off leaving Sam staring at him in stupefaction.

It was close. Really close. But no cigar. Sometimes even he forgot how smart Dean really was. If he didn’t watch himself, Dean would find out everything.

“I think it had to be you”, he said quietly.

“Yeah. That was my thinking too”, Dean agreed.

His face was still doing that impassive thing. But there was no way he wasn’t affected by this, was there? For one thing, he was still hard. Of course he hadn’t gotten off if he was thinking of this as strictly a medical emergency. He wouldn’t do that. Not Dean Winchester. Sam wanted some of that dick though, he wanted Dean to want this. The world had changed. His world had changed. There was no going back. Whether the sepsis came back or not, he needed Dean to continue fucking him. He required it of his brother and he didn’t intend to start taking no for an answer now.

“So…sepsis aside; was it as good for you as it was for me?” he asked.

Dean gave a tired laugh, glance full of affection, irritability and disbelief as he cut his eyes to Sam and then away again.

“It was aight”, he said.

“I bet it could be better”, Sam replied just going for it and resting his hand gently on top of Dean’s dick.

Dean’s hand spasmed like he wanted to reach out and either fling Sam’s hand off or urge him on. But then he held it still, eyes trained on the ceiling, face impassive.

“Sam”, he said in that tone which he’d used for time immemorial to indicate that ain’t nobody had time for Sam’s shenanigans at this time. “Dean”, Sam gave the tone back to him as he began to rub at Dean’s swollen penis like it was a booboo Dean had made.

“Sam sto-“, Dean began but Sam leaned in and placed his lips on Dean’s and thrust his tongue into Dean’s mouth.

He had just meant to shut him up but the moment his tongue touched Dean’s…that was it. Move over fireworks, explosions and earthquakes; you have just been replaced as the most explosive descriptions by Sam’s tongue in Dean’s mouth. The world ended, and eternity began. Time stopped and went by too quickly. Sam’s body trembled and he surged forward, hands clutching desperately at Dean’s short hair. Dean’s protesting had apparently been abandoned because he was pulling Sam closer, moaning into his mouth, cursing filthily when their lips got separated even for a moment. There was no clashing of teeth or fights for control or supremacy. It was the easiest and smoothest thing Sam ever did. there was no effort, they didn’t struggle to get it right. It just…worked. When the need for oxygen was turning Sam’s lips blue Dean reared away and flopped down on the bed, breathing through his mouth with difficulty as if he’d just run the 400m in under five seconds. There was wetness on his stomach and Sam looked down to note that yes, Dean had finally blown his load. From a kiss.

“We’re kinda fucked aren’t we?” he’d asked.

Dean had laughed and laughed and laughed. Sam hadn’t understood it at the time. Dean had gone from standoffish and reluctant to pure animalistic desire like zero to a hundred real quick. Was Sam just that good at kissing or…? He had to know, so he did his research, talked to some witches. Turned out it was his saliva. The wolf part of him wanted Dean to be his mate. He was in heat and he was aroused and so his saliva had been emitting pheromones designed to tie his mate to him. So when they kissed, Dean had gotten a mouthful…literally, of Sam’s wants, needs, desires and love. The fact that they were genetically related made it even easier for answering pheromones to be generated. Bish bang boom; instant love potion.

Not that Dean Winchester was about to let his feelings dictate his actions. He resisted fucking Sam for a while. There was some begging, some hammed up demonstration of just how much pain Sam was in; Dean insisted on a hospital visit first; to make sure that there wasn’t some sort of medicine that could cure this shit. Sam went willingly. It was awkward as shit lusting after your big bro. but that wasn’t the worst part. The worst was that he might be a no good sonofabitch but he really loved the guy.

And he could see that this was causing Dean no end of distress. Dean felt like he was betraying his family, Sam knew. Sullying the memory of his mother, disappointing his father by wanting to sleep with his brother. Sam didn’t have those same hang ups. But he had a thing about seeing Dean unhappy. He didn’t like it much as he was often the one to cause it. So if he could cure himself of this, then he would do it. For Dean. They gave him morphine at the hospital, and he was running his mouth, thinking aloud; saying all this shit about how much he loved Dean and he just wanted him to be happy and if loving Sam was making him unhappy then Sam would rather die.

“I would kill or die for you Dean. You know that right? I did this for _you_ …”

Maybe he even cried a bit. Thankfully he passed out soon after. When he woke up again, he was home, in his own bed and Dean was sitting on the bedside chair, watching him sleep. Sam didn’t move, just stared right back at Dean, waiting for an explanation. Dean sighed, stood up and came to sit by Sam on the bed.

“We’ll get through this okay Sam? You and me. Like always”, he said.

“What does that mean?” Sam’s voice was hoarse. Probably coz of all the bullshit he’d been spouting the night before.

Dean sighed, “This thing that happened to you; that caused you to…well. Change. It might be temporary, it might be permanent. But if you’re sure you want-“

Sam sat up and pulled Dean to him kissing him for all he was worth.

“Please. Fuck. me”, he said against Dean’s lips and felt him laugh as Sam thrust his tongue into Dean’s mouth. He also propelled Sam backward kissing him hungrily all the while so Sam was fine with it.


	6. The Kids are Alright

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> How did Sam and Dean have kids?

Sam stormed into the office, snatching the papers his secretary handed him and blowing past like Hurricane Katrina.   
“Let me guess; Dean wouldn’t put out this morning?” his secretary who obviously had no sense of self preservation asked.  
“Do we know any enforcers Missouri?” Sam asked. His petite red head of a secretary didn’t even turn a hair at his abrupt tone.  
“Not that I know of. why?” she asked leaning her frame against his doorway, black suit stretching tight over her substantial bust as she folded her arms.   
“I’m thinking about hiring one. Find me one”, Sam replied as he thumbed through the paper, “Is the board ready for me?”  
“Have been for the last twenty minutes. I have Anna running the financial report. She already showed it to you last night so you didn’t need to be there for that”, she reported.  
“Good. Good”, Sam said. He couldn’t care less, “I need you to do one thing for me while I’m in the conference room.”  
“Anything boss”, Missouri said with a faux salute.  
“Find me Dean”, he said.  
Missouri lifted an eyebrow, “Did he take off in a huff? Aww Sam; what’d you do now?”  
Sam glared at her, “That’s none of your business. Just find him. And don’t tell him I’m looking. Come up with some pretext for him to tell you where he is. Say you’re being attacked by ghouls or your house has been infected by poltergeists. I don’t care what you say. Just find him.”  
“Okay but those pretexts won’t work because he’s the one who set up security at my house. He knows there’s no way any of those can get in.”  
“Well then invent a friend Miz! I don’t care what you do, you just better have a location for me when I get out of the meeting.”  
Missouri finally realized that Sam was not in the mood and backed down, “Yes sir”, she said quietly heading toward her desk. When they’d arrived at this realm, Sam had immediately sought out Missouri Moseley. He’d needed to find someone who he couldn’t lie to. To his eternal chagrin, the Missouri in this realm was not only not a psychic, she was a spazzy genius who refused to leave him alone. He’d ended up hiring her when he set up the firm just to give her something else to do.   
Sam shambled to the conference room, flopped in his seat and pretended to listen to his CFO, Anna, give her financial report. His mind lit on his kids, and what he would tell them if Papi didn’t come home today. They had received the shock of their lives when Sam went to see the doctor about persistent nausea and dizziness and was told that he was actually expecting. Sam was horrified, mostly because he was afraid that Dean would find out he was a chimera and exactly how he’d come to be that way. Also, what if his kids came out with claws or antennae? Sam seriously considered aborting these children who couldn’t possibly come out normal. But pregnancy in this realm was a special thing; the rate of birth among humans was pretty low and therefore for one to get an abortion, not only did both parents have to give consent, but also there had to be a medically legitimate reason for the pregnancy to be terminated. The doctors did all the tests. The kids were alright. And Dean was excited…scared to death; at a loss to explain how this possibly could have happened; but over the moon as well. He almost said ‘I love you’ out loud that one time.   
The kids changed everything. Sam had been drinking demon blood on the regular ever since the spell was done. He’d discovered quite by accident that it was the only thing that suppressed his symptoms completely. Even with him and Dean fucking like rabbits, the sepsis tended to return after a few days. Sam was able to hide the worst of it from Dean and the latter thought that whatever disease Sam had healed slow. The truth was that he’d gone for a run in the woods behind their hotel and ran into a demon and a witch, doing a summoning ritual involving one of the elementals. Just on principal, Sam had stabbed the witch with his angel blade.   
“Stop! Wait!”, the demon had said when Sam had turned to him, “I can help you with your allergic reactions.”  
“What allergic reactions?” Sam was sufficiently distracted to ask.  
“Those”, the demon had said, pointing at the black veins peeping out of the arms of his shirt.   
“Its an allergic reaction?” Sam asked stupefied.  
“Yeah. You did a spell didn’t you? It changed your body Sam Winchester. Demon blood can help alleviate that. I’m willing to be your limitless supplier if you spare my life.”  
Sam stared at him, “Prove it”, he’d said.  
∞  
So the allergy had dissipated and Sam thought it was time to start thinking about the future. He had thirty three million dollars so financial worries were definitely in the past. Maybe it was time to get that law degree. Dean was supportive. So they moved to Palo Alto and Sam enrolled for classes. Dean set up his security firm. This was a different world, people were aware that ghosts were real, demons weren’t just for Jesus shouters and vampires did not glitter. Which meant that there was a whole industry built around the management of the supernatural. Dean’s firm specialized in keeping the supernatural out; out of homes, people and office buildings. He also had an extermination department whose majority of business came from clearing out spirits, ghouls, revenants and other supernatural detritus from buildings that needed to be converted for other uses. They lived in an apartment in a suburban neighborhood near the campus. It was during Sam’s second heat that he conceived, six months into his first year of law school.   
“If I continue to drink the demon blood while I’m pregnant, will it affect the babies?” he’d asked Gerald, the demon who was also his dealer.  
“I can’t really say man. But you’re doing good. Why not hold off on drinking for a few months. See what happens?”  
The thought was scary; Sam knew he was addicted but these were his kids. He had to try.


	7. Thoughts from the Hood (of the Impala)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean reflects. Life Happens.

Dean lay down on the hood of his car, beer in hand. Normally he wouldn’t burden his windscreen with his weight like this. And the possibility of pouring beer all over it. But he was stressed as fuck right now and he needed to be here with the other thing that he loved, that was his. The only one remaining that was always true to him. He hadn’t let on to Sam but he’d been so relieved that Baby had made it to this realm too. The original Winchesters belonging to this realm had all died in that fateful fire that had started in Sam’s nursery. The yellow eyed demon hadn’t come alone. There was no need for stealth. Everyone knew who they were anyway. He brought a small army with him. They tried to take Sam away but Mary had fought like a lioness protecting her cub. She’d given the baby to her Dean to carry out but he’d been intercepted by demons. There was a scuffle and Sam had been dropped down the stairs. He didn’t make it. John Winchester was passed out in the living room. He didn’t wake. When the house went up in flames, they all burned.  
So there was no impala in this realm to be found. Theirs had travelled with them through the rent in existence the witches had created. The rent which had apparently been made possible by the sacrificing of many lives, and Sam going back on demon blood and allowing himself to be turned into a beast. He hadn’t even given Dean the choice to go or stay. He’d made the call for both of them. And God knew Dean had done it a time or two to Sam; making a call; deciding for them both what was best…but usually when the bill came, it was very specifically addressed to Dean or to Sam or to them both. Collateral damage might exist; but this sort of wanton destruction for the gratification of them two? Who was this guy whose bed he’d been sharing for the past six years?  
Sure, Sam said he had no clue about the sacrifices before he’d agreed to the deal; but Dean had difficulty believing that he was totally in the dark. I mean, sure he’d been tricked before…on a scale probably just as massive. But…at what point did ‘fool me twice shame on me’ come into effect?  
Dean drunk his beer and tried to think what he was going to do next. He couldn’t go back. He couldn’t leave his kids…he couldn’t leave Sam. It was too late for that. He was culpable. If there was a bill to be paid, they were both liable.   
His phone went off and he ignored it. Let it ring to silence. There was a beat of silence and then his phone began to ring again. He fished it out to switch it off, sure that it was Sam on the other end but he caught sight of the number; Missouri. He stared at the name with a cynical smile. Sure, it could be some ruse of Sam’s to get Dean to answer the phone; or it could be that something was wrong. They had kids for crying out loud. He couldn’t afford to be out of touch for too long.  
“Hello”, he said into the phone.  
“Dean! Thank God I’ve been trying to reach you”, Missouri’s voice sounded frantic.  
“What’s wrong Miz”, he asked curtly heart sinking. Sam hadn’t tried to do something stupid had he? He was too selfish for that. Dean was relying on the fact that Sam was too selfish to hurt himself or the kids. It was the one thing keeping him sane.  
“Its…Jupiter. They took him to the hospital Dean”, Missouri said.  
“What’s wrong with him”, Dean was already sliding off the hood and walking toward the driver door.  
“I don’t know. Sam said to find you and tell you to meet him if you can”, she said.  
“Text me the address.”  
Dean took off with a squeal of tires. He was already a hundred miles away from town. It was going to be a long drive.


	8. Forgiveness Don't Come Easy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jupiter wasn't sick and now Sam has to face Dean.

“I know you probably won’t believe me, but it wasn’t me. I didn’t tell Missouri to tell you that Jupiter was sick. I would never…”, Sam was leaning on the hood of his black truck, clad in one of his expensive Armani suits. His arms were folded defensively over his powerful chest and his hazel eyes met Dean’s green ones head on. Dean kept walking toward him, not really taking in the words. As soon as he was level with Sam, he drew back his fist and slammed it into Sam’s jaw. His brother’s head snapped to the side and drops of blood flew in the air. For one horror filled moment Dean thought he might have broken his brother’s neck. Sam crumpled to the ground without a word but he landed on his knees, head down, body supported by his hands and knees. He was fine.  
“Don’t you ever bring our children into this sick game you’re playing. You hear me Sammy; or I will take them away and you will never see them again.”  
The venom dripped from his voice in thick, unfiltered rage and Sam could not fail to hear it. He held his hand up in a quelling gesture and stood up slowly.  
“Do you fucking understand me Sammy?” Dean growled. Sam lifted his head to look into Dean’s eyes, pain in his own. If Dean saw it, he ignored it. That hurt worse than the sock to the jaw. Dean had never not cared when Sam was in any sort of pain be it a paper cut or a fatal knife in the back.   
“I didn’t Dean. I swear”, Sam said and Dean sucker punched him again. This time he simply rolled away, the car at his back supporting him.   
“I do not want to hear any more of your lies Sammy”, Dean bit out.  
“You’re mad, I get it. But you need to stop foaming at the mouth and listen to me Dean. Please Dean, its me. Sammy. Your brother. Its still me”, Sam pleaded.  
“Yeah, that’s what makes this thing so fucked up. It is you. And you did this!”, Dean said turning away as his face reddened with all his grief, anger and pain. Sam thought about reaching out, maybe touching his shoulder; maybe spinning him around and kissing him until he couldn’t breathe. Distracting him, reminding him of just what it was they had. This curious chemistry that had nothing to do with heat or hormones or blood and everything to do with love. Love born of suffering and pain and going through every hardship together, pulling each other out of fires, shedding blood for each other, waking up to each other; the first thing in the morning and the last thing at night. The only constant in each other’s lives. All of that. And none of that. Just Dean and Sam, forever. That was how it was. Sam knew it in his bones. He knew Dean did too. He knew it. That shit didn’t change; whatever Sam had done was not enough to break that. Nothing was. not heaven or hell or purgatory. That was their religion; it was all that they believed.  
“Dean”, Sam said and all of that was contained in that one word.  
Dean just shook his head; he heard it all and he rejected it. He turned away from Sam and began to walk away.  
“What about the kids Dean. You gonna walk away from them too?” Sam called.  
Dean stopped walking, turned around, fixed Sam with a death stare, “Really? Did we not just finish saying you weren’t gonna use them in this sick game of yours?”  
“What do I tell them when Papi don’t come home tonight?” Sam asked ruthlessly.  
Dean narrowed his eyes, “Tell them that Dad’s been a bad man, and Papi needed to go away to deal with that.”  
“For how long Dean? How long will Papi be away?”  
“For as long as he needs to be”, Dean said coldly. He turned away but Sam called to him.  
“Dean please. Wait. I’ll leave.”  
Dean stopped but didn’t turn around.  
“I fucked up. I should leave. I’ll stay at the apartment above the office till you say its okay for me to come home. Alright? Alright Dean?”  
Dean continued to stand and say nothing.  
“Please Dean. Please”, Sam said.  
Dean turned around to face Sam his face like thunder, “Is this some new trick Sam?”  
Sam shrugged, “Yes and no. I like knowing where you are even though I can’t see you. And you’re better with the kids than me; you understand them. I just don’t see why the kids should be punished for my mistakes. Come home Dean. I’ll leave you alone. When I want to see the kids I’ll make an appointment in advance. Its not their fault Dean. Its mine, don’t punish them.”  
He could see Dean was wavering. This was going to be harder than he’d thought. But he was in it for the long game. He could have the patience of Job if need be. He would outwait his brother. He would get him back.


	9. For Those About To Rock; We Salute You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dealing with the aftermath of yet another lie.

“You’re fired. Have you things packed and out of here by noon”, Sam breezed into the office, throwing the information at Missouri as he passed. She stood up and followed him into his office.  
“You said get it done, I got it done. What are you in such a tizzy about now?”  
“You told Dean that our child was sick! Have you no sense of boundaries. I want you out of here now or I’ll turn our enforcer on you so help me”, he growled, looming over her like a volcano about to erupt.  
“Sam. I got the job done. You know he wouldn’t have come back for anything less”, she soothed arms making calming gestures like there was a hope in hell that he could calm the fuck down. AFTER WHAT SHE DID. there were limits. I mean sure he lied to Dean; he did. Mostly to save him from some sort of worry or heartache; NOT TO GIVE HIM A FUCKING HEART ATTACK!  
“I need you to go Miz”, he bit out pointing imperiously out the door.  
“You can’t fire me”, she fired back.  
“Why not?” Sam asked momentarily perturbed before he remembered that he was the boss here. He was the rock star. People did whatever he fucking wanted. Not the other way around.   
“Because there is a clause in my contract that says so”, Missouri said. Sam stared at her flummoxed.  
“That’s not true. None of my employee contracts have such a clause.”  
“Mine does.”  
Sam drew himself to his full height and folded his arms, hazel eyes narrowed as he glared at her, “Let’s see it then”, he said. There was a flash of light and then Missouri was holding a paper. On first glance the paper seemed to be flaming slightly, with an eerie otherworldly glow but then on second look it was just an ordinary parchment. Wait. Parchment? They didn’t use parchment to write employee contracts.  
“Sam Winchester, erstwhile boy King. The witches didn’t exactly bring you to other-Earth out of the goodness of their undead hearts. They needed you here so that you weren’t there to stop something from happening. I am your very own guardian witch and you can’t get rid of me.” She said her voice slightly lower and hoarser than Sam was used to.   
“What did you do with the real Missouri Moseley then?” he asked. It was the first thing that occurred to him. That Missouri existed after all; and if he could find her…maybe she could help.  
Red-headed Missouri inclined her head to the side, “She’s a vegetable confined in a mental institution by her family for her own good”, she told him, “Oh relax”, she said as she saw him flinch, “She was there long before you came here. Some of the things she saw were a little too much for her poor psychic mind to take. This wasn’t your fault. It was a gap. Just like you and your brother filled a gap. Suck it up.”  
Sam was breathing hard, “You caused me a lot of trouble Miz”, he said.  
She was nodding sympathetically, “I know. I know. Who knew Dean would take his child’s fake illness that hard? But I’ll make it up to you. I have tickets. To AC/DC.” She said proffering them as if giving a two year old candy. Sam’s eyes cut to the tickets then back to her face.  
“I can buy my own concert tickets thank you”, she said.  
Her smile widened and she beamed at him, “Not like these; these are exclusive back stage passes mate! And an invitation to the after party where Bon Scott will be taking requests. You know he didn’t die in this realm. Can you imagine how surreal it’ll be for your brother?”  
Sam just stared at her.  
“Give him the tickets. Don’t offer to go with him, don’t make him take you. Just give them to him as a gift and then back off and look like a lost puppy. I guarantee you; you’ll be humping like the wolves you partly are before the end of the evening.”  
Sam Winchester so wanted to believe her. But he was experiencing for himself the seismic shift that happened when someone you thought you knew has been lying to you about who they are for the longest fucking time. He reached out though and grabbed the tickets. Then he slammed the door in Missouri’s face. He grabbed his phone and called Dean’s agency.  
“Winchester Security, how may I direct your call?” a female voice answered at once.  
“Macy, I need to speak to my husband please”, Sam said. As far as anyone in this realm knew, Sam and Dean shared the same last name because they were married. It was a surprisingly easy sell. Dean had been pretty perturbed by that shit but for Sam it was just another lie that was maybe based in more truth than all the other lies they were telling. Okay, he was telling.  
“Good morning Mr. Winchester, I’ll connect you now.”  
Macy had been to lunch at their house more times than Sam could count. She had baby sat their kids on more than one occasion. Still, when she was at work it was always, Mr. Winchester for either of them. Sam listened to Dean’s office phone ring, wondering if he would agree to even speak to him.  
“Hello”, he said in Sam’s ear, intimate in the way only a voice on the phone could be. And what a voice Dean had. It was low and gravelly like honey pouring over grits. Sam loved it in a visceral way that could not be enunciated with mere words. He could feel himself stirring with arousal just listening to it. He didn’t think that he and Dean had ever gone this long without seeing each other. Not in this realm anyway.  
“Dean”, he said and what he was thinking must have been reflected in his voice because Dean gasped. there was silence on the line.  
“Can I see you tonight?” he asked, eyes closed, fingers crossed.


	10. To Be or Not To Be

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> will Dean let Sam in the door?

“Dean, your husband is on line one for you”, Macy said into his ear piece and he tensed. He’d agreed to move back home because well…children. Jupiter and Jasmine had spent the last three days asking questions like, “Where’s dad?”, “When is he coming back?” and the worst one, “Why are you so sad Papi?”  
He didn’t know what to tell them; he had no clue about the way forward. He did not know how to get past this. How to get back to a place where he and Sam could deal with each other on a daily basis with a modicum of trust or understanding. The whole of fucking Texas! He’d sacrificed an entire state for his own selfish ends. Worse, he’d done it for money? A normal life? He’d thought he knew Sam, thought he knew the kind of man he was. he knew he was a man unafraid to put his life on the line for the greater good. He’d seen that demonstrated; or maybe Sam’d just done that for him? Either way, he was no coward, no craven, greedy, thoughtless bastard that this action of his seemed to indicate that he was. there must be an alternate explanation. Another reason why it was okay to him to kill so many. Or maybe the witches had pulled a fast one on him. Sam so wanted to believe. He wanted to believe there was a higher purpose, he was here for some reason greater than…he was always looking to find that piece of something that would earn him immortality. Like Hercules or Gandhi. Maybe the witches played into that, made him believe that what he was doing was the right thing.  
“Still making excuses for him huh Dean?” he murmured to himself as he picked up the phone. He would hear what Sam had to say; maybe it would give him some answers.  
“Hello”, he said into the phone, striving to make his tone as neutral as possible.  
“Dean”, Sam replied like he was a thirsting man who’d just caught sight of a mirage of running water and was afraid it would disappear if he breathed wrong. Dean caught his breath at the wealth of emotion that his brother could convey with a single word.   
“Can I see you tonight?” Sam asked. Dean could feel him doing is best to make his tone casual; matter of fact. No biggie. I mean…if you’re busy its fine. Only…his voice shook just the slightest little bit, giving Sam away.   
“I don’t know. It depends”, Dean said surprised at his inclination to drag this out. He was usually the one jumping in to mend things; make things better for his Sammy. Now he could hear the pain in Sam’s voice. The low key desperation…but it evoked no fixit! response in him. Dean took a moment to wonder at this. A lifetime of conditioning; just gone? Or suspended?  
“It depends on what?” he asked, his voice shaking ever more visibly.  
“Depends on what it is you want. If its more sicko mind games I’ve had my fill thanks.”  
There was extended silence on the line. Sam’s breathing though was harsh and ragged. Despair was coming down the line in waves. Dean could feel it. But he couldn’t respond to it the way he normally would. A part of him wanted to reach out, the part of him that had looked out for Sammy since his father put his brother in his arms and told Dean to take him outside. That part though, was overshadowed by the other part that was a raging mass of explosive anger and betrayal.   
“I just…want to talk”, Sam said, the words choked.  
“About? Is there more that you haven’t told me?” he demanded.  
“Dean…we need to fix this. Decide on a way forward; we can’t just live in this limbo of silent treatment and despair”, he said.  
“Why not?” Dean asked as if he really wanted to know.  
“Because we’re adults and not talking has never been helpful to anyone; especially not us. Please Dean? Let me come home”, he whispered the last time, his voice thick with emotion.  
Dean closed his eyes and sighed. Sam was right; he knew it. But he also knew that his brother was trying to manipulate him.   
“Fine Sam. Come at six. You can have two hours with the kids, and then we talk”, he said.  
“Thank you Dean. I really appreciate this.”


	11. Betrayal  Goes Both Ways

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> How low can a low blow go?

Sam took his time to get pretty for his brother. He took a long shower and then soaked in the tub in scented water for half an hour. it made him feel like the girl Dean was always calling him but it also relaxed him; gave him some time to think. Clearly Dean was angry; and an angry man is not a reasonable one. So step one of Operation Get Dean Back was to find a way to diffuse that anger. Maybe a knock down drag out should do it. That or Sam could get grievously injured and almost die. Through it or over it. Either way, Sam guessed that it was going to hurt. He stood up from his bath and drip dried while blow drying his hair into windswept perfection. Dean liked to complain about it, but he also liked to run his fingers through its soft waves, rearrange it for Sam, beg him to let him cut it…Dean had an ongoing love affair with Sam’s hair and by Jove he was going to use that. He was going to use every single advantage he had. He picked up his Chanel for Men and scented himself with it. And then he went to his closet to pick out the perfect outfit. It had to look casual - he was supposed to be visiting his kids after all – but at the same time make him look hotter than Hades. His brother would remember why they generally could not keep their hands off each other or his name was not Sam Winchester.  
The kids were waiting for him as he drove up in his monster truck. They barely waited for him to come to a stop before clambering up the truck’s wheels and running over the dashboard. They climbed all over him and he picked them both up as he alighted from the vehicle and carried them both on his shoulders and into the house.  
“Dean!”, he called.  
“He’s not here Mr. Sam”, Genevieve said as she waddled into the room smiling in delight. She’d always liked him better than Dean because he entertained her propensity for gossip much better than Dean did. Also she thought it was cute how gone he was over ‘his husband’.   
“Where is he?” he asked.  
“He come home, and then he go out again. I think he went for a job; something to do with warding. You know I heard that the Cassidys have been dealing with a demon these last few days. I think it was possessing their nine year old”, she confided.  
“That’s crazy. They weren’t already warded against demons?”:  
“Nah. They’re these new age-y people you know? The ones who think we can live peacefully alongside supernatural beings and that we can all be friends or something?”, Gen didn’t bother to hide her sneer.   
“So they called him to go exorcise it or what?”  
“I think so. I didn’t really hear the conversation properly. He was in his study with the door closed.”  
All this time the kids were using Sam like a climbing ladder, pulling his hair and hanging off his arms. He put them down gently to see if they’d go off somewhere to play but they just sat on his feet and waited for him to walk them to the den.  
“Let’s play hide and seek daddy!”, Jasmine cried pulling at his arm.  
“Okay cool. You all go hide and I’ll count”, Sam offered at once. They could go and hide while he looked through Dean’s papers and maybe find out where he went. He closed his eyes and began to count out loud while the kids ran off screaming and laughing. As soon as they were out of earshot he stopped counting and went to Dean’s desk. There were some papers on the desk and Sam picked them up to read. Sam read the papers in horror; it was some sort of first draft…for a separation agreement. Sam perused the end of the document to see which lawyer was drawing it up. He squinted at the signature in disbelief, going so far as to pick up a magnifying glass to read the name again. Tyson Brady…TYSON BRADY!!? In this realm, Brady was well warded against demons and he remained unpossessed. But Sam could not forget what he’d done back in the other world and Dean knew it. They were both lawyers and sometimes met in court. Sam could barely hold back most days and complained bitterly to Dean when he came home. And now Dean was using him to draft a separation agreement?? Wait. He was drafting a separation agreement?  
Sam heard footsteps coming slowly down the hall. It wasn’t the pitter patter of little feet or the very heavy tread of Genevieve, coming to eavesdrop once more. It had to be Dean. Sam thought about dropping the papers and pretending he hadn’t been reading them but…TYSON BRADY?!?!


	12. Beauty or the Beast?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam reacts.  
> this chapter contains non-consensual sexual acts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know what happened. Sam and Dean were supposed to JUST TALK.

Sam looked up as the door opened, eyes more tawny gold than hazel. He was breathing hard, clutching the document in his hand.

“Sam. I thought you wanted to see the kids”, Dean said, hand on the door handle, one leg bent behind the other as he leaned into the room from the doorway. He looked smug, like he’d caught Sam out doing something he shouldn’t. again. Sam suspected that Dean really liked when he could get that expression on his face. All sad faced disappointment mixed with lack of surprise. He was never surprised when Sam let him down; only when he didn’t. And sure, Sam wasn’t perfect, but he DID NOT DESERVE THIS SHIT.

His fingers convulsed around the document and nails longer than any he’d ever had tore through it like it was cobwebs. Sam growled; yeah, he made that sound a wild cat makes just before it jumps on the antelope. Or maybe in this case, it was the sound a dog makes as it waits for the thief to come within ankle biting distance. Sam had never heard such a sound emanate from his throat but it felt natural; good. So he did it again.

“Sam”, Dean said warningly, eyes wide on Sam’s face. What was he looking at? Sam wondered. It was like Dean’d never seen him before.

“Tyson Brady Dean?” Sam asked stalking forward as Dean came in the room and closed the door fast.

“Sam, you need to calm down”, Dean said staring at him like he was a rabid dog. Maybe he was. hell he felt as crazy as one right now.

“Of all the lawyers in all the world that you could pick…you picked TYSON BRADY?!” Sam felt something prick the skin next to his mouth. Something pointy and sharp. He was too filled with rage to pay attention to it.

“Sam…stop”, Dean said, his voice trembled slightly as if he was trying to hide fear. Damn right he should be fearful. What the fuck was he thinking? TYSON BRADY?!? He came to a stop right in front of Dean and in the ensuing silence he realized that he was still growling. His vision seemed to have gone a bit red around the edges but he could see Dean, clear as fuck, leaning as far away from him as the wall behind him would allow. It didn’t help Sam’s rage.

“Sam. The kids are in the house”, Dean said quietly, reaching out tentatively to push Sam’s chest away from him.

“So what?” Sam growled, and realized that his teeth were now too big for his mouth. He reached up absently to touch them and that’s when he saw his hands. Or rather his nails. More like claws; the nails were long, pointed and curved. He looked in desperate need of a manicure; which was strange because he’d just had one that morning. He placed his claw hand next to Dean’s head; suddenly he understood his brother’s fear.

“Looks like there’s more to me than previously imagined”, he growled into Dean’s ear. He felt his brother shiver and it was evoking a dual response in him that he didn’t know how to express. On the one hand, he was boiling with rage. On the other…he was burning up with lust. He wanted to use his new nails to tear off the shirt that Dean was wearing. It was a close fitting jean shirt and it made his pretty pretty brother a little more than irresistible. His fitting jeans outlined those long slightly curved legs to perfection and Sam _wanted_.

He realized he was breathing audibly, raggedly, unable to contain his emotions within the boundaries of his body. Something had to _give_. Dean was talking, saying something about Sam needing to do something or something about Jupiter and Jasmine. Sam couldn’t hear over the roar of his need and his rage! His hand lashed out, slashing a line down Dean’s shirt, leaving it in ribbons.

“Sam! Stop!”, Dean shouted and Sam heard him; he did. he just…didn’t listen.

His nails slashed again and Dean’s shirt was in ribbons on the floor. His chest was lined with red; four lines specifically, following the trajectory that Sam’s nails had taken. His brother was bleeding; for him. Sam leaned in and placed his tongue on the wounds and sucked. This was life blood; the essence of Dean; the essence of **He Who Was Everything**. Sam could no more have resisted than he could stop himself from breathing. Dean was trying to push him away – using every bit of strength he had to do so. That wouldn’t do. Nope. It wouldn’t do at all. Sam roared and pushed, pinning Dean against the wall and fitting their lips together. His teeth bit down, injuring his brother’s mouth and more life blood flowed into Sam. He picked Dean up and dropped him on the leather couch facing Dean’s desk.

He’d sat many a night on this couch, reading reports or writing pink slips while his brother researched some supernatural being that hadn’t existed in their world, that he needed to get rid of. Sam would throw helpful suggestions at him from time to time. Not all his clients were human so he had access to information Dean might not have. One of his clients for example was a thousand year old vampire who loved to tell stories. Sam was patient enough to sit and listen; no biggie; he charged by the hour anyway. He called himself Edward these days, the vampire, after the Cullens he confided to Sam in amusement. He’d dreamed dreams he said; of other worlds. So he was all caught up on twilight and highly amused by it too. He was also very knowledgeable on a lot of things; things he had no problem sharing – what could it hurt after all?

And now that very couch, was the means to pin Dean down, tear off his jeans and catch hold of his cock. Sam wondered how it would be to drink his blood from there. Before he knew it he was bending down, Dean pinned with just one hand while his mouth opened and he swallowed Dean down to the accompaniment of his screams. Sam was offended; Dean couldn’t possibly imagine that Sam would hurt him. Not seriously. I mean come on…and why the hell would he hurt Dean’s dick? He _needed_ it for gosh sakes. Who else could fuck him as well? Nobody that’s who. He knew that for a fact because Dean had made him try other people. Men, women…he got off sure but he was always left hungry. Hungrier even than before. Every single time he’d come back to Dean and begged for it. On his hands and knees if he had to. When it came to Dean he had no shame; no chill; there was nothing he wouldn’t do. So of course he wouldn’t _hurt Dean._ His brother should know that by now. His sharp and pointed incisors pricked one of the veins on Dean’s dick; his brother might pretend to be scared spitless but his dick sure was liking the attention. He was so hard he could probably pound sand. As the blood began to flow into Sam’s mouth Dean made a noise somewhere between pleading and denial. Sam inclined his head so he could look up to Dean’s face. It was contorted with so many emotions Sam wasn’t sure he could read them all.

“You like this?” he whispered, sucking harder at the blood.

“Sam, let me up. I said no”, Dean said glaring at him.

Sam sucked harder and Dean’s dick jumped, “I don’t think your dick agrees with you”, he said as his long tongue came out and licked. Dean made a sound like he was dying slowly and his hips arched upward. Sam found a smile somewhere, even as his head was heated with his anger and lust.

“See”, he said.

“Sam, if you want there to be any chance of us coming out of this in one piece, you need to let me up now”, Dean said.

That gave Sam pause…for a minute. Then he reached forward and sucked Dean down; All of him. He pricked and sucked at the blood and pre come and sweat and fear that Dean was exuding, making slurping satisfied sounds the whole time. It didn’t take long before he was also sucking down Dean’s come and somewhere within him, his wolf howled with victory.

Dean pushed his head away and scrambled up the seat, as far away from Sam as he could get.

“Get out”, he snarled.

“No”, Sam replied, still wiping come and blood from his lips. Suddenly there was a gun in his face. Sam sighed, he should have known that Dean would have a plan even when he just looked like he was moving at random.

“You’re not going to shoot me”, Sam said standing up slowly. His erection was apparent as he stood, tenting his pants unashamedly.

“Try me”, Dean said, his green gorgeous eyes glacial as they regarded Sam with what looked a lot like hatred.

Sam put up his hands to show his harmlessness…well, relative harmlessness, “We haven’t talked yet”, he said.

“My lawyer will talk to your lawyer”, Dean replied. That brought back a frisson of the boiling rage within Sam as the thought of Tyson Brady flashed through his mind and he almost lunged at Dean. Dean cocked his gun.

“Get out”, he said again.


	13. What Had Happened Was...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Sam doesn't remember shit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this story just keeps taking twists I didn't plan.

Sam woke up with a pounding headache. He straightened up wondering at the cramp in his limbs until he flicked his hand out and it landed hard on a semi-soft surface. He felt around him and realized he was sitting in his car; in the pitch dark.  
“Did I have an accident?” he asked no one hoping that a light bulb would go off somewhere and he’d know what the fuck had happened. Nothing did happen except he realized that the pounding in his head was more migraine than headache.  
“Great. Just. Fucking Great. Did I get drunk and crash the car?” he asked no one again. It seemed unlikely. For one thing, getting high on alcohol wasn’t his go to. He would more likely go take a hit of some demon blood instead; get the juices really flowing. He didn’t care about much of anything when he was hopped up on it. It was a massive hit of adrenaline+. Nothing got through after that. It didn’t give him this type of hangover though; I mean sure there was a headache, but only if he’d been playing around with demon blood side effects like throwing demons about or exorcising the shit out of them. In some moods, that was the only thing that gave him joy anymore. But he didn’t usually blank it out after. The memory loss was new. He straightened up slowly, holding his head delicately between his hands as he alighted from the vehicle. He ran his hands along the length of his truck. Everything seemed fine. So what was he doing blacked out in his car in some god forsaken…where was he?  
He switched on his headlights to see if he could recognize the landscape. Mrs. Landis Christmas tree that she hadn’t taken down since last Christmas winked back at him. He was like five hundred yards from his own gate…former gate. He had gone home, to see Dean…he remembered that. And he’d played hide and seek with the kids…then…he found the separation agreement and…  
Sam closed his eyes trying to remember. He knew that he’d been mad as a hatter; feeling betrayed and just _mad_ at Dean. There had been a red haze, he remembered; like he was viewing life through the terminator’s eyes. He might’ve…did he…? No, he couldn’t have. He didn’t…  
Sam got slowly back in the car and turned it around, driving back to his gate. He still had the keycard combo and he pressed it in to open the gate. It didn’t budge. He keyed it in again, slowly. Nothing happened. Had Dean changed it? Sam strode to the intercom, disregarding his headache and pressed it down, hard and continuously.  
“What?” Dean barked into the receiver sounding mad as hell. It occurred to Sam to check the time. 3am. Fuck. Oh well, might as well be hanged for a sheep as a lamb.  
“Dean? Open up”, He said.  
There was silence on the other end.  
“Dean? Please? I…just woke up in the middle of the street and I don’t know what happened. I need you to explain to me?” he held his breath hoping to hear the snick that would signal that Dean had opened the gate. The line remained silent.  
“Dean”, Sam called. It was the same way he called Dean when he was five and apartment owner’s giant mastiff had been standing in his path, growling at him, all 50 giant teeth on display. _Finally_ he heard the click and the gate slowly opened. He drove slowly up the driveway; _His_ driveway if we were being nit picky. _He’s_ the one who bought it with the blood money he extorted out of the witches. How dare Dean lock him out of his own house?  
The subject of his thoughts was standing outside the door, a shotgun trained on the truck and a very Dean Winchester Demon Killer expression on his face. Sam alighted slowly from his vehicle watching his brother.  
“Dean, what is all this?” he asked genuinely puzzled.  
Dean stared at him, night light illuminating Sam’s face, but leaving Dean’s in shadow.  
“What is all what Sam? You’re going to come back here in the middle of the night, pretending everything’s fine?”  
“Dean…I need you to tell me what happened. I woke up literally fifteen minutes ago in my car, five hundred yards from here and with the worst migraine I’ve ever had. I came here for an explanation that’s all. There’s no one else I can ask.”, Sam put his hands forward, palm outward to show his complete harmlessness. His eyes were pleading if only Dean would look.  
“You don’t know what happened?” Dean asked.  
Sam shook his head emphatically and then clutched at it, crouching down with pain. Dean put aside his rifle and took a step toward him.  
“Sam?” he said.  
Sam said nothing; he was too busy inhaling and exhaling; trying to get the pain back to manageable levels. He opened his eyes to see a pair of booted feet planted not two inches away from him. He could also see the butt of a gun hanging by the side of the jean clad legs. He rubbed his head and closed his eyes. Suddenly there was a hand, combing through his hair soothingly, a thud which made him flinch as the gun was dropped in favour of Sam’s shoulder. Soothing hands rubbing gently; taking the pain away. Sam leaned forward and placed his forehead on Dean’s shoulder.  
“Dean”, he whispered.  
_Dean, my stomach hurts. Make it stop._  
 _Dean, I think I twisted my foot at soccer practice. Could you take a look at it please._  
 _Dean, what do I do? I dream dreams and they come true. What do I do?_  
 _Dean? I want back in._  
 _Dean, help me._  
“Come on Sam, get up off the gravel”, Dean said pulling him up. Sam came because Dean said to. He kept his eyes closed though, because the pain was blinding.


	14. Panic Room

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam and Dean talk.

For the second time in as many days, Sam woke up disoriented and with a pounding head. He was definitely lying down this time though, and the room looked familiar. He looked up, squinting at the light seeping in from the basement window. From the looks of the light it wasn’t too late in the morning. His eyes fell on the jug of water sitting on the table next to him, and a glass. The whole tableau was familiar…he looked down at his hands to see if he was handcuffed to the bed but no, his hands were free. He moved his leg slowly off the mattress and let it thump to the floor.  His headache was still present but it had demoted from pounding to throbbing. He could literally feel the skin of his head expanding and contracting with every heart beat as a vein jumped at his temple. He reached out to pour water into the glass and his fingers brushed against pills. Dean had left him some painkillers.

“At least you still care”, he murmured as he swallowed them both dry before draining his glass twice of water. As he polished off the second glass he heard the sound of a lock opening. Dean had locked him in here. Typical.

He watched for the appearance of Dean’s feet on the stairs and it wasn’t long before brown logger boots appeared, shortly followed by the man himself. He looked to have slept just as well as Sam had; his hair was untidy and his stubble was surpassing five o’clock shadow and heading toward small town drunk. This was the first time Sam had really looked at him. Looked like this separation was taking just as much of a toll on Dean as it was on Sam.

“You look like shit Dean”, Sam said even though he hadn’t really been intending to. Dean gave his signature smirk but said nothing.

His feet touched the basement floor and he turned to face Sam, his silver handgun tucked securely into his belt.

“Hey Sam”  he said face as serious as Sam had ever seen it.

“Hey Dean”, Sam said taking his hands from his head and folding them in his lap.

“So. About last night.”

“I still really don’t know what happened.”

“You turned into a werewolf and attacked me.”

Sam stared at him in stupefaction. Then he began to laugh and laugh. His head hurt like a son of a bitch but the laughter just kept coming.

“Like…seriously dude?” he asked between hiccups, “A werewolf?”

Dean just watched at him, face impassive. Sam’s laughter gradually petered off as he realized Dean was serious.

“Seriously?” he asked.

“Yes.”

“What…where..?” Sam looked Dean over, searching for wounds or bites or any injury.

“You slashed off my clothes and sucked blood from my dick”, Dean said, still impassively. Sam’s mouth dropped open.

“I…what? Dean! God”, he said hands going to his head.

“I told you to stop and you just kept going”, Dean continued in that dead voice that was making Sam feel like throwing up repeatedly.

“No”, he whispered, head in his hands.

“I had to threaten you with a gun to get you to leave.”

“I can’t seem to stop fucking things up between us. Do you think it’s a fate thing?” he asked head still buried in his hands.

Dean took two steps and sat on the stool next to Sam’s bed.

“Sam”, he said.

“Yeah?” Sam still did not lift his head from his hand.

“Sam”, Dean said louder making Sam lift his head to peer at him.

“What?”

“You need help”, Dean said.

“No shit Sherlock.”

“You need to go find these witches who turned you into…whatever this is…and ask them how to turn you back.”

Sam laughed cynically, “Did you forget the part where we left them in the other world?”

“This world is chock full of supernaturals. Pretty sure you can find some witches.”

Sam straightened up, “Actually, Missouri is one of them”, he said as he remembered what she’d told him.

“Yeah? Another thing you neglected to mention?”

“She just told me the other day when I tried to fire her for lying to you!”, Sam growled.

Dean put up his hand, “Fine. Let’s stick to the issue at hand. She’s a witch, connected to the other witches?”

“Yeah. She’s supposed to be watching me.”

“Okay then, so she has a clue what’s happening to you?”

“Probably”, Sam said.

“Cool. So let’s go ask her.”

“You and me?” Sam asked incredulously.

Dean took an exaggerated look around the room, “You see anyone else here?” he asked.

“I just…you’re mad at me.” Sam said.

Dean sighed heavily, eyes on the ground, “I spent last evening after you’d left, with a throbbing dick, fielding questions from Jupiter and Jasmine about where you got to. Why you left in the middle of your game…when you were coming back to finish it.” Dean regarded him, his green eyes serious and sad, “I don’t want to have that conversation with my kids again.”

“So you’re saying you forgive me?” Sam said perking up.

“No. I don’t. But your kids need you; and if you’re going to be around them you need to do something about your…”, Dean waved his hand as if to encompass all of the things that Sam was, what he’d done, everything.

“But…what about you?”

“What _about_ me?”

“What do I need to do to get you to forgive me Dean?”

Dean regarded him sadly and then he shrugged, “I’m sorry Sam. I don’t really see what you could possibly do to make us alright.”

 

 

 

 


	15. Welcome to the Dark Side

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A quest begins

“Cas?”

“Castiel!”

Dean had been calling on the Angel off and on during different occasions in the last six years. He’d yet to get an answer but hope sprang eternal.

“Cas, seriously; if you can hear me…I really need you now. Its Sam. Something’s really wrong with him and I don’t have a clue what to do…there’s nobody I can talk to around here; only Sam and he’s…off the rails. You remember the demon blood? Child’s play compared to this shit. If you can hear me at all Cas, send help.”

When they’d escaped from the other world, Cas had been acting like a major douche. But that was six years ago; shit coulda changed by now. At least Dean really hoped it had. He was at a complete loss. Sam was downstairs, taking a shower, acting like… _He wasn’t even sorry!_ I mean yeah obviously he was upset about being thrown out of his home and he maybe was out of his mind when he…but generally the guy was acting like everything was fine and his behavior was perfectly reasonable.

Dean did not know what to do.

“Ready to go?”

Dean started; he’d been so lost in his own head that he hadn’t heard Sam come up the stairs.

“Daddy!”

Those little running footsteps he heard quite clearly as the twins hurtled down the stairs and threw themselves into the father’s arms. Sammy wasn’t the most hands on parent; sometimes he didn’t seem to know what to do with these two little people he’d birthed. But that he loved them just as much as he loved Dean was something Dean had never doubted. He watched as his children climbed all over Sam as if he was the world’s most hairy tree and he let them, keeping hold of sweater or sleeve so they didn’t fall. He was so gentle with them, a soft look in his eyes; puppy dog in full effect. Looking at him, Dean couldn’t even _fathom_ …

Sam turned to look at him, the softness in his eyes changing subtly into something more…fiery, a little more…passion. It still made Dean uncomfortable to behold. Maybe this happening was for the best. Clearly him and Sam had strayed so far off the beaten track that they needed a wake up call. Maybe this was it. It had slapped him awake, made him see things the way that they were instead of the haze of Disneyland delusion they’d been living in. Sam was his _little brother!_ Something had happened that changed him into this…thing…that he was now but that wasn’t an excuse for this new relationship that they had. And now they’d brought _children_ into the equation. What the fuck had they been thinking??

Okay so the children were totally an accident; who would have expected his brother to grow a uterus? Dean smiled in spite of himself – all those years of calling his brother a princess; turned out he really _was_ one. And there was no way to completely unravel this mess. But he could do what he could to make it stahhp.

Sam smiled at him, “You ready?” he asked for the second time.

“Yeah. Let’s go”, Dean said to immediate protest from the kids. Jupiter unraveled himself from Sam to come over to Dean and wind himself round his leg.

“Weaugoin Papi?” he whined.

“Daddy and I have work to do Jup. I need you to look after your sister until we get back”, he said reaching down to undo Jupiter’s hands from his jeans and lift him up to eye level, “We’ll be back as soon as we can okay?”

Jupiter was shaking his head vigorously in protest, “I don’t want you to go”, he cried.

“I know you don’t. and we don’t want to leave you but…Daddy and I have to. Okay?”

Jupiter was still shaking his head, his longish hair flying from side to side. Jasmine joined him, her breath hitching in preparation for the bawling she was about to start. Sam made a noise deep in his throat. It was something equivalent to a growl, still leashed but showing potential to be a doozy. Jasmine and Jupiter stood down at once. They got down from their parents’ feet and stood back, hands at their side. Dean leaned down to their level.

“We’ll see you soon okay? Promise.”

“Okay Papi”, Jasmine said nodding her agreement. She glanced briefly at Sam who leaned down and kissed her forehead and then Jupiter’s.

“We love you and we’ll bring you back a surprise okay?” he said.

Dean narrowed a glance at him. Always with the bribery Sammy…

Jasmine’s face opened up again in a wide smile, “Okay”, she said. The life had definitely returned to her voice. Dean started for the door and heard Sammy coming up behind him. For the first time in his life, having his brother at his back didn’t feel like a comfort; it felt like a threat.

Dean headed for the impala and felt Sam hesitate behind him.

“What?” he asked without turning around.

“Uh, the truck is better for unknown terrain don’t you think?” he asked.

Dean turned to stare at him, “Which part of we use the impala for hunting has escaped you in the past three weeks?”

Sam sighed and changed direction to take the passenger seat. He pulled the map toward him.

“So according to my research, the witches are divided into several covens. Some are in alliance, and some are sworn enemies. The Elijah coven, which is the one that sent us here, was the most powerful to exist in this century. They made a deal with two other covens; the Miranda and Rowena covens to move to our realm; there they would be able to rule over the entire earth with no impediment. So they essentially divided the two earths between them.”

“And you helped them to do it”, Dean said trying to keep the bitterness down to a minimum. This wasn’t the time to start a fight.

“I did help them. And there’s nothing I can do about it now”, Sam laughed bitterly, “I think its my fate to always fuck up on a global scale you know?”

“Except that this time, you _knew_ what you were unleashing on our world”, Dean couldn’t help but say.

Sam opened his mouth and then closed it again. He mouthed something that Dean didn’t catch. He turned his head to look at Sam, “Did you say something?” he challenged.

“I did it for you”, he said.


	16. Flashbacks are a Bitch

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> a little background on how we got here and what do we do about those pesky erections?

“You did this…for me”, Dean repeated as if that was the most unbelievable thing Sam could ever have said.

“Yeah. I did”, Sam said suppressing his annoyance at Dean’s superior big brother tone. He _was_ the big brother so Sam guessed he was entitled. Plus chafing at that tone always got him into more trouble…not less. He was trying to learn his lesson. Or at least try not to make the same mistakes over and over.

_The witches had knocked Dean out; he’d lain as if broken on the ground. Sam had rushed to him, kneeling at his feet, calling his name. Dean didn’t answer._

_“He will not answer you”, one of the witches had said looking at him with compassion in her eyes. It was the scariest thing Sam had ever seen._

_“Why not? What did you do to him?” he’d asked desperately._

_“I? not a thing”, the witch said in that smug tone little kids used when they thought they’d gotten one over you._

_“What’s wrong with him?” Sam rephrased._

_Another of the witches stepped forward with a shrug, “I’m afraid he hit his head hard against the rock. It does not look like he survived it.”_

“No”, _Sam’s denial was immediate and complete._

_The third witch cackled, “Do you deny the evidence of your eyes Samuel? Your brother is dead.”_

_“No”, the sound was ripped from his throat in a frenzy of pain and denial, “Dean! You can’t leave me. Not now you bastard!”, he shouted at his brother who continued to lie prone._

_“I am sorry for your loss”, the second witch said and she even sounded like she meant it._

_Sam stared up at them with desperate eyes, “Bring him back. I’ll do anything”, he said._

_The first witch smiled sadly, shaking her head._

_“We cannot do that. Not in this realm. if its any consolation;_ you _are dying too. It won’t be long and then you’ll be with him again.”_

_“What do you mean?” Sam asked although he knew perfectly well what they meant. He could feel his body breaking down; cell by cell. The witch said nothing, just stared at him and smiled sadly._

_“You burn the bodies of hunters no?” she said brandishing her hand like a whip and producing fire at the end of it, burning bright and strong in her hand. She aimed the flame at Dean. Sam threw himself over his brother’s body._

_“No!”, he shouted, “Please, I can’t do this alone.”_

_“Do what? Close the gates of hell? Do you really want to do that? Your father…and your mother might be down there. Do you not hope for the chance to see them again?”she asked. Sam stared at her, his expression fraught; and then back down at his brother’s body._

_“This is my father and mother”, he said, not aware before he said them of the words that would emerge from his mouth, “Will I see_ him _again?”_

 _The witch laughed, “You have caused much trouble in heaven_ and _hell…I don’t know that you would be welcome in either. Do you really want to find out?”_

_Sam stared at her assessingly, “What are my options?”_

Dean sighed, “You sit there, having disposed of the _entire State of Texas_ and you tell me that you did it for _me_?”

Sam shrugged, “Just telling it like it is man”, he said.

Dean turned his head to face the front. There was a vampire at the side of the road, his fangs out, a small boy clutched in his hand. Dean hit on the brakes so hard the car squealed. He swung out of the vehicle while it was still moving like he was Bruce Willis in RED and walked toward the vampire. He whipped out his machete from the holster he wore on his ankle and slashed the vampire’s head off with violence aforethought. The head went rolling down the gutter and the street rat he was trying to drain went running down an alley and out of sight.

“Yeah. You’re welcome”, Dean murmured after his disappearing figure. He wiped down the machete on a clump of grass nearby then walked back to the car where Sam was waiting; watching him like he was a movie.

“What?” he bit out.

“Violent much?” Sam said.

“Last time I checked, we’re still hunters”, Dean bit out.

“Sure we are”, Sam agreed, “Just…be careful okay. Don’t let… _this_ …make you careless.”

Dean glared daggers at him before returning her attention back to the road, “I don’t break that easy _Sammy_ ”, he said.

Sam opened his mouth to say something like, “I know you don’t”, but figured that Dean would just take it as being patronizing.  He could not win with his brother. He sighed deeply instead, leaned his head on the window and closed his eyes.

“Oh yeah. Get some rest why don’t you? I’m sure all these secret evil plans take a lot outta you”, Dean snarked.

“They actually do”, Sam agreed determinedly closing his eyes.

They had to stop at a hotel for the night. Sam looked at the window at the dingy motel they were parked in front of.

“Er, Dean? You know we have black cards now right?”

Dean gave him a look, “Oh I’m sorry; did I miss the Middle of Nowhere Hilton down the street?” he asked. Sam sighed and exited the vehicle. Dean went to check them in and Sam wondered if he would get separate rooms. He had no illusions about there being at least separate beds…

Dean was coming toward him with keys and Sam walked toward him. He waited for Dean to hand him a key to his own room but he just walked to a unit and opened the door, leaving it ajar for Sam to follow. Something loosened in Sam’s chest. Perhaps all wasn’t lost.

Dean dropped his duffel on one of the queens, divested himself of clothes and headed for the shower. Sam didn’t breath the entire time until the bathroom door slammed behind Dean.

“Fuck”, he whispered to himself, pushing his erection ruthlessly down as he sat on the bed, “Its going to be a long night.”

 

 


	17. What Are We Going To Do About You Sam?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam has urges. Dean is oblivious.

Dean came out of the shower draped in nothing but a towel. Sam inhaled deeply and flopped backward on the bed, praying for strength. Nobody was listening apparently because he whipped the towel right off and began scrubbing himself down.

“Since when do you do that? I thought you liked to drip dry” Sam asked in a very hoarse voice, eyes on the ceiling.

Dean smirked, “Which do you think takes longer?”, he asked, “’sides, you’ve already seen all my man bits. What’s with the vapours?”

Sam closed his eyes concentrating on his breathing. Clearly Dean had no clue of the effect of his naked body on Sam. Suddenly a light bulb went off in Sam’s head and he knew how to clue his brother in. He leapt up and began to strip.

“I guess its my turn huh?” and left it to Dean’s imagination whether he was talking about showering or getting naked. Dean grunted and put on his shirt and a pair of jeans.

“I have to go get something to eat”, he announced before bouncing out of the room while Sam watched him go with disbelief in his eyes, ripped chest on full display. He divested himself of the rest of his clothes and went to take a shower anyway. His dick was in need of urgent attention.

When he came out, Dean was back with packages. A chili bean salad sat waiting for him _and_ a mango smoothie. Sam suppressed a smile to see it. Didn’t matter how mad Dean was at him; he knew how to take care of his lil bro. always had, always would. At least Sam could rely on that not to change. He sat down and pulled the food toward himself, wondering if he should try to make conversation, maybe break down a few of the walls between them…

“After we find the witches, then what Dean?” he asked, “We don’t have any leverage or nothing. How are we getting them to help us again?”

“Same way we always do; threaten to kill them”, Dean said impassively as he ate his cheeseburger.

“Oh. Of course yeah”, Sam said not making effort whatsoever to hide his sarcasm. Dean was in a black t-shirt that might have once belonged to Sam. It was filling Sam’s head with memories of post coital food runs in the early days before the kids came; when someone would grab whatever shirt was nearest and go raid the fridge for food. Sam had a lump in his throat just thinking he might never have that again with his brother. He dismissed the thought; he would never let that be true.

“Want a beer?” Dean said even as he crossed over to the fridge to get two.

“o’course”, Sam said nodding in thanks as Dean handed him his. He waited, bated breath, for Dean to toast before he drank. His brother hesitated and for one fear filled moment, Sam was afraid that he actually would not…he didn’t. He just drank his beer, no toast, no quick glance in his direction that was his way of saying, “We good Sam”. They weren’t good. Sam knew that. He knew that with his head, but his heart kept thinking something else.

They had three beers, watched some new medical drama that had nothing on doctor sexy MD and then Dean announced he was turning in. Sam was too miserable to sleep just yet. It was one thing to sleep in his cold lonely bed above the office. He was used to that; sometimes when he had a really big case, he would spend the night there instead of coming home. But this…having Dean _right there_ and not being allowed to so much as hug him goodnight…it was more than a man could take. Sam had three more beers to drown the pain; then he went to pee and stripped down to his boxers. He flopped down, on his stomach on his own queen bed, rubbing his face miserably into the pillow to scrub away the tears. He was aroused again; Dean’s nearness, his scent and Sam’s tipsiness combining to make him hornier than a motherfucker. He lifted his head and looked over at Dean who seemed to be fast asleep.

He sat up, watching his brother breathe in and out tracing the long lines of his body with his eyes, silently lusting. He stood up, took the two steps that brought him to Dean’s bed and sat on it. He placed his hand near Dean’s head, comparing his tanned skin to the freckliness of Dean’s face. He’d missed Dean’s freckles. Those were _his_ freckles; to count, play with, kiss, love. How was he not allowed to touch those freckles anymore again? He leaned down, eyes level with Dean’s shoulders as he studied said freckles. They looked lonely. Like maybe they’d missed him as much as he’d missed them. His tongue snaked out to take a lick, let them know that he was still here, he still loved them; they were still his number one freckles. His hands were moving; he didn’t tell them to –they just did it of their own volition. They were travelling down Dean’s body, closing on his butt, encircling it, squeezing it; reacquainting themselves with it. God he loved Dean’s butt – it was a thing of beauty. He groaned deep in his throat, taking hold of some freckles and suckling at them. His body moved, settling over Dean’s so naturally that Sam barely noticed. He was home. This was his home. Dean was his home. Sam felt like he could breathe again just laying here on top of him.

“Sam? What are you doing?” Dean’s voice was not at all sleepy. He sounded like he was giving Sam time to answer before he freaked the fuck out.

Sam pressed downward, his erection rubbing against Dean’s duvet. He gasped, grasping at Dean harder, giving his freckles subtle licks.

“Saaamm?” Dean’s voice was heading toward pissed off.

“I just want…”, Sam panted. He was full on humping Dean now. He couldn’t stop.

Dean arched upward trying to buck Sam off him. Sam held on for dear life.

“Please Dean…I have to…”, he moaned as his body humped faster. Dean decided to go the opposite direction and keep completely still.

“Oh God. I’ve missed you so much”, Sam said before he licked into Dean’s ear. His brother couldn’t quite suppress the gasp that escaped him, “Dean please, don’t…don’t turn me away”, Sam whispered.

“Sam…you need to get off me now.”

“I will. I will. I’ll never hurt you. I promise. I just need…God Dean I need to touch you. Please.”

“You are touching me Sam. You’re touching me. Now you need to stop okay? Get off me.”

Sam stopped humping his brother. He slid to the floor and burst into tears.

“I cuh,..cuh..cuh-ant d-do anyth-thing right”, he wailed, “I’m sorry Dean.”


	18. Keeping It Real

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> a conversation is had

“Sam? Get off the floor”, Dean said in a world weary tone. Sam just continued to curl up on the floor and cry.  
“Sam! I’m not kidding”, Dean warned.  
“You treat me like a child”, Sam said surprisingly clearly for how much he was wailing.  
“That’s coz you act like one”, Dean clapped back at once, “Now get off the floor and stop acting like a goddamned horny baby chimpanzee.”  
“Dean, are you cheating on me?” Sam asked looking up with red, leaking eyes and runny nose.  
Dean’s eyebrows went up, “Why would you say that?” he asked.  
Sam shrugged, “Its just…we’ve never…you’ve never…we’re always in the mood. And now suddenly you aren’t?”  
“I don’t know Sam, you’ve never lied to me on this epic a scale and been responsible for the death of Texas before”, Dean said.  
“Oh come on, you don’t even like Texans. We’ve never even been there. Its not like I killed Hollywood or something.”  
Dean stared at him, head tilted to the side and mouth pursed as if to say, ‘really?’  
Sam looked down, wiping his nose on his sleeve, “I mean I just…did all those feelings just…disappear? Do you not love me anymore because if you don’t then what’s the point of even looking for a cure?”  
“I don’t know Sam, maybe it’s the fact that your children need their daddy sane?”  
Sam said nothing, simply looked miserably at the ground, “So you’re saying I should do it for the kids? That you don’t love me anymore.”  
Dean hesitated, “Yeah. Basically”, he said.  
“I don’t believe you”, Sam replied immediately.  
“Well too bad because its true.”  
Sam looked up at him, “I set the devil loose from his cage and you didn’t turn a hair”, he said.  
“That wasn’t deliberate dude.”  
“I let you turn into a vampire Dean.”  
“You didn’t have a soul.”  
“You coulda killed Ben because of me.”  
“You couldn’t feel a thing then. When you condemned those people to their deaths, your soul was intact.”  
There was silence in the room. Then Sam shook his head.  
“You’re my soul Dean; and you weren’t intact. You know how I get.”  
“What do you mean I wasn’t intact?”  
Sam just stared off into the dark; he hadn’t meant to say that. Keeping the fact that Dean died a secret was also part of the deal.   
“Sam! What do you mean?”  
“Nothing! I…was going to lie to you again but I changed my mind. I figured it’d truly be the last straw.”  
Dean sighed, “What makes you think you haven’t crossed that line already?”  
“You’re here. You’re helping me. You want me to get better. You want me in our kids lives…maybe in yours too – you’re just too mad to admit it right now.”  
Dean got off the bed and came to sit on the floor next to Sam, “Sam? I want you to listen very carefully to what I’m about to say okay? You and me? We’re over. Done. Finished. Fini. Caput. How many languages do you want me to use?”  
Sam wiped his nose again, “ I don’t believe you”, he said.  
∞  
The found the witch the next day; she laughed in their faces when they told her what they wanted.  
“There is no going back. There is no reversal of this spell. You broke it, you buy it. Deal with your shit.” She said.  
∞  
The drive back was silent and sullen. Dean continued to deny his interest in Sam; Sam continued not to believe him.  
“Where do I drop you off?” Dean asked as they got back into town.  
“I wanna see the kids”, Sam said.  
“Make an appointment”, Dean retorted.  
“They’re as much my kids as yours Dean. Don’t be like this.”  
“They’ve been with Gen for two days straight without us, I think they’d appreciate seeing us both. Besides my truck is at the house.”  
Dean sighed, “Fine. We’ll go home then.”


	19. What. The. Hell. Dean?!?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Plot twist

Dean watched in brooding silence as Sam played with the kids. He thought it was the most attentive he’d ever seen Sam with Jasmine and Jupiter. Not that he doubted Sam’s love for his kids…oh no. Sam loved them _almost_ as much as Dean did. But he was usually impatient and distracted, looking over a contract or trying to get them to sleep so he could jump Dean’s bones…something. Now, he was 100% in the moment with his kids. Or he looked like he was. Dean wasn’t sure about anything anymore. He wasn’t sure whether he’d ever known who Sam was….or he’d always known and always denied it. Always found a reason to excuse his behaviour; it was always someone else’s fault.

Well whose fault was it now? Dean’s? Sam’s? the witches? Who could he blame for this? Who could he blame his own unquestioning acquiescence with everything Sam had told him. He knew it couldn’t be that simple. If there was one thing his life had taught him, it was that it was never that simple. But he’d just sat back and accepted it all; the money, the lifestyle, the…sex. The pregnancy. He’d taken it all in his stride; hell he’d enjoyed most of it. He’d enjoyed the way that Sam looked at him like he was the be all and end all of everything. It had seemed natural that his one long standing relationship should turn sexual; hell if they weren’t brothers….but if they weren’t brothers they wouldn’t be each others’ long standing relationship. And it had happened so simply; Sam had needed him – Dean had been there. That’s how it always was, probably always would be.

But no. no more. He couldn’t be living these patterns over and over again. Something had to change. He had to let go of his brother; make what he’d said to him true. He had to get _over_ him. Sam’s hair fell forward, obscuring his face as he bent over to listen to something Jasmine was whispering in his ear. It was all so heartbreakingly domestic. Everything Dean had ever wanted sitting on the floor, playing together. He stood up abruptly and Sam’s head whipped around like he was attached to Dean’s movements.

“Where are you going?” he demanded as Dean stepped away from the sofa.

“Out. I thought I’d leave you and your children to bond”, he said with a forced smile.

“You don’t need to go”, Sam protested.

“Oh yes I do”, Dean murmured to himself as he walked out.  He grabbed the keys to the impala, catching a glimpse in the corner of his eye of Gen peering curiously at him, clearly wanting to ask where he was going. He walked quickly, got behind the wheel and peeled out of the compound – a fixed destination in mind.

Dean was a security consultant. He fixed up people’s homes to make them secure against all kinds of supernatural threats. When they’d arrived in this world, he’d done a spot check; Bobby was dead here; his demon possessed wife had murdered him and then killed herself once the demon left her. That was because the Rufus of here was a happily married man who did not hunt and therefore was not there to save Bobby. The next people he’d searched for were Ellen and Jo – the former owned a bookstore while Jo was in college…William Harvelle being very much alive as John Winchester did not exist to fuck up his life. He went into the bookstore even if it was two towns over sometimes, just to browse and revel in Ellen still breathing.

Ben was in his school’s Defence Against Supernatural Threats class which Dean had discovered when he’d been invited to do a talk there not three months ago. He’d also met the parents including Lisa. Pretending not to know who she was, was one of the hardest things he’d ever done in his life. They’d got to talking, and Lisa had invited him over for a beer. He’d declined because he knew Sam would throw a bitch fit; he really was a jealous motherfucker. For that same reason, he hadn’t told Sam that he’d met them. She’d given him her number though and he searched in his wallet till he found it.

“Hey. This is Dean Winchester. I was wondering if it was too late to take you up on that beer?” he said into the phone.

“Its never too late. Come on over”, Lisa replied. Dean could hear the smile in her voice.

∞

Sam waited until late for Dean to come back but then had to resign himself to the fact that he wouldn’t be coming back as long as Sam was here. He’d probably parked down the street and was waiting for Sam’s monster truck to go barrelling by before he came back in.

“You know what? Fuck you Dean. This is _my_ house. And I’m staying. If you want to sleep in the car that’s _your_ problem.”

He climbed the stairs, hesitating in front of their bedroom door…but then decided not to push things and go sleep in one of the guest rooms. Tomorrow would be soon enough to confront Dean.

∞

“Why haven’t you left yet?” a belligerent voice demanded as his room was forcibly flooded with daylight. Sam was surprised the curtains weren’t rent in two with the force put into opening them.

“This is my house”, he croaked head in his pillow.

“Oh really? This is your house? That’s your argument?”

Sam lifted his head and regarded his brother looking all sleep tousled and beautiful in his Nike track suit bottom and some old Led Zep shirt. The problem with Dean was, he just did not know how goddamned sexy he was.

“Yeah, that’s my argument”, Sam slurred, trying to keep his eyes on Dean’s and not visually eat him up as he was strongly inclined to do.

“Its my house too, and I don’t want you in it”, Dean said.

“Well too bad”, Sam said flopping backwards and closing his eyes. He had  a humdinger of morning wood and if Dean wasn’t going to take care of it, he needed to jet so Sam could.

“Fine. Have it your way”, Dean said, his tone way too even. He padded barefoot out of the room as Sam opened his eyes into slits so he could watch him leave. Dean’s ass was a gift and Sam intended to look his fill. He got up quick and dived in the shower before he lost the image, hand fastened around his dick as he imagined himself balls deep in Dean’s ass. It had been so looonnng; Gawd his body was starrvvving. He pumped himself to orgasm feeling dissatisfied and incomplete. How was Dean not feeling this?

He stepped out of the shower and found Gen depositing a number of suits on his bed.

“Good morning Mr. Winchester”, she said. Sam narrowed his eyes. She only called him Mr. Winchester when whatever she had to say was way too good and she wanted to be asked.

“What Gen?” he demanded hands on hips as he was wrapped in a towel.

She sighed deeply and shook her head, “I’ll let you see for yourself”, she said.

Sam took the two steps necessary to reach her and took hold of her round black arm, “Gen”, he spat threateningly.

“Okay fine, your husband done brought a woman home with him”, she said, eyes alight but face curiously solemn.

“What!!!?”, Sam shouted. Gen shrugged.

“Don’t take my word for it. Go see for yourself. They havin breakfast as we speak.”


	20. Cheating is a No No

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam drops some troofs on Dean

Sam stomped down the stairs in his towel, Genevieve waddling after him holding out his pants. Sam paid no attention; his whole being was focused on Dean and this alleged female he’d brought into their midst.

_Hewouldn’thewouldn’thewouldn’t_

Went round in his head like a mantra of evil and gloom.

“Mr. Winchester! Mr. Winchester! Your towel is falling. Come on, there are kids downstairs. Do it for the kids”, Gen panted agitatedly at his side, shaking his trousers at him as she tried to keep up with his long legs. Sam stopped abruptly, snatched the trouser out of her hands, whipped off his towel and climbed into his pants one leg at a time, his ass on full display for Gen’s edification. She took it in her stride, only breathing in once and glancing away as he tied his button and zipped himself in. he walked away from her without so much as a glance and she let him go, making the sign of the cross and saying a quick prayer for luck. Then she hurried after him, not wanting to miss _a thing_. Working in the Winchester household had just gone from interesting to supernova!

Sam was barefooted so he was able to walk into the breakfast nook without being heard. His eyes fell on his children, sitting on the floor watching a dark haired older kid steer their train set in complicated whorls around the dining table. He looked kind of familiar but Sam couldn’t quite place him. His eyes rose to Dean who was frozen with a coffee cup halfway to his lips staring at Sam like he didn’t know who he was. Sam’s eyes shifted to the left of Dean where a dark eyed beauty looked back at him with a tentative smile.

“Hi”, she said in a small voice.

“ _Lisa_?” Sam mouthed in disbelief. Lisa’s brow furrowed in puzzlement.

“You know me?” she asked.

Sam’s mouth was too busy being open to answer. Dean stood up, put his coffee cup down, smiled down at Lisa with an apologetic smile and a request to be excused and then took Sam’s arm and propelled him out of the room and into the library.

“I didn’t know you were still here when I brought her home”, he said before Sam could so much as open his mouth.

“You….didn’t know…I was…here?”, Sam repeated disbelief colouring every word, “And that makes it okay?” his voice was much higher than its usual baritone.

“Jesus take the wheel”, Dean murmured under his breath, “Let’s not throw stones in this glass house okay Sam? I have nothing to explain to you; you and me are done”, he said though he was avoiding Sam’s eyes as he said it.

Sam’s eyes cleared, “Oh I see. So this is the ‘look Sam, I’ve moved on’ dick move you’re pulling?”

Dean looked at him head inclined to the side, with… _pity_?....in his eyes. He shrugged his shoulders, “I met them three months ago Sam, it got me thinking about second chances. This situation of ours came like a sign you know? That maybe I should…explore other options?”

Sam lifted an eyebrow, “And does…fake Lisa in there know what the situation is or is she such a slut she just agrees to fuck anyone who asks? Or have you cheating on me with her this entire time?” Sam couldn’t quite keep the hurt out of his voice and his eyes, though he made an almighty effort.

Dean shrugged again, “That’s none of your business Sam”, he said.

“Oh, its none of my business?” Sam repeated kind of folding in on himself, “Well you know what is my business? This house is my business. Those kids are my business. You don’t get rid of me that easy Dean-o. We’re not just brothers in this dimension Dean. We’re _married._ _Legally_. I have just as much right as you to be here. Fuck, I have more. Its my money that bought this house.”

Dean sneered, “Oh, like you spend any time here. You’re always off at your business meetings and golf games and conferences…you didn’t pick even one stick of furniture that went into this place. _I_ made it a home.”

“Sure you did Dean. And where did the money come from to decorate your lil home huh? Yeah, those golf games and business meetings _bro_. So fuck out of here with that.”

They were literally shouting at each other by this time, faces close together, red, upset and eyes flashing with anger. They were about four or five seconds from wildin’ at this rate.

“Uh, excuse me?” a small voice at the door made both of their heads whip around simultaneously, “Dean, I think I should go”, Lisa said looking embarrassed and insecure. Dean took a step toward her and Sam had whipped out a hand to stop him before he even thought about it. He could feel his incisors lengthening.

“Let her go”, he said. His voice was more of a growl than words.

“Lisa I’m so sorry. Let me call you a cab”, Dean said whipping his hand out of Sam’s grip but wisely heading further away from Lisa rather than closer to her.

“No its alright. Your housekeeper has offered me a lift. She says she needs to get some things at the market with the kids so its no problem”, Lisa said stepping back fearfully from Sam.

So it was an all out evacuation. They must have been louder than they realized. The thought occurred to them both at the same time. Gen felt like she had to take the kids off site…Sam’s incisors retracted.

“Well okay then. I’ll call you”, Dean said with a small wave.

Lisa didn’t reply. As soon as the door closed behind her Sam crowded around Dean, arms folded, muscles bulging. He might be a yuppie lawyer these days, didn’t mean he still didn’t get to the gym.

“Looks like you scared her off”, he said nastily.

“Huh, I’m not the one foaming at the mouth”, Dean scoffed.

“I would really suggest you nix that situation Dean”, Sam said.

“Or what?” Dean taunted.

“Or I will go to court and have the kids taken away from you. The only time you’ll be able to see them will be supervised visitation once a month. I’ll leave you without a penny; though I’m sure that means nothing to you…I’ll take everything Dean; your business, the house, the kids…the Impala…”

Dean glared at him, betrayal in his eyes. Then his eyebrows went up, “Don’t you think that’s a bit of overkill just because I might be exploring something new? You that desperate Sam?”

Sam’s eyes went tawny yellow. The change was so sudden that Dean took a step back in startlement, “You wanna try me?” Sam asked.


	21. Fight Fight Fight!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mistakes were made.

“Fine, sit the fuck down. I’ll break it off with Lisa on the condition that we have a drama free divorce. Your lawyer, my lawyer and they hash things out peaceably.”

“Fine.”

“I’m not giving up the house though, you should know that. The kids and I are staying here.”

“Fuck that shit. I’m not giving up the house either.”

Dean sighed theatrically, “This is stupid”, he said.

“Which part is stupid? The part where you bring random females home with you or..?”

“You don’t want this house Sam. You’re just hanging onto it to annoy me”, Dean said.

“You have an overinflated sense of your own importance Dean.”

“Oh do I?” Dean replied incredulously.

“Oh yeah you do. You think the world revolves around you? Fuck. I could bang anyone I wanted from Lindsay Lohan to Matt Damon. Don’t even think they haven’t offered. But I stayed faithful to your ungrateful ass. And what do I get for it? Squat! Well fuck you Dean.”

“You’re acting like a sulky baby Sam. And how come this is the first I’m hearing of these so called offers huh? What happened to no secrets Sam? Oh, I guess its just another thing that you say that you don’t mean-”

“I didn’t want you to be insecure asshole!”

“Why the fuck would I be insecure? You think you’re better than me because you have some high powered job? I can get my own tail Sam.”

Sam turned away breathing hard, “This is getting way off topic”, he said quietly.

“You’re telling me”, Dean said as he crossed to the other side of the room and sat on the leather bench. Sam turned his head to look at Dean over his shoulder and they stared at each other, caught in a Mexican standoff.

“We could split the house in two. God knows its big enough”, Dean said.

Sam stared at him, “What about the children?”

Dean shrugged, “They can have the run of the whole house. Its just you and me that get to keep to our sides. Deal?”

“Yeah okay.”

“Great. Our lawyers can negotiate an amicable split in the middle while we sort out the divorce issue. Sooner or later we’re gonna have to deal you know?”

Sam sighed, “I’ll get one of my associates on it”, he said heading for the door.

“Sure. Have him meet my lawyer here bright and early on Monday”, Dean called as Sam walked away.


	22. Do What I Gotta Do

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Whose lawyer is more of a shark?

Sam was sitting at his desk staring vacantly at the wall. It was 6:30am in the morning and he was waiting for Missouri to come into work. He was thinking about doing things…bad things. Things that Dean would never forgive him for if he knew.

“Might as well be hanged for a sheep as a lamb right?” he murmured to himself even as his head was shaking. He’d left Dean in the house, on the phone, speaking to someone in low tones. Not Lisa though; he’d kept his word on that. But still, Sam knew it was bad news. He hadn’t even got one of his associates on his ‘divorce’. He had just one instruction for his lawyer. ‘Stall, stall, stall…or you’re fired’. That should give the bugger sufficient motivation to get the job done. Meanwhile he needed to come up with some foolproof means of getting his family together.

“Oh, Sam. What’s happened?” Fake Missouri came in and deposited some files on the desk.

“I need help”, Sam said not looking her in the eye and wincing internally.

“Yeah? What do you need?” she asked coming to lean against the desk, cross her legs and study him like he was a particularly interesting specimen that crossed her witch table.

“I need…my husband back”, Sam said still looking at the floor.

“Yeah?”, Fake Missouri prompted.

“I need you to…I don’t know. Make him forget or something?”

“I can’t do that.”

“Why not?”

“Because he’s warded. Your brother knows you a little better than you think he does. I think he anticipated this move.”

“How do you know he’s warded?”

Fake Missouri shrugged, “I thought I could maybe reset him; him knowing could cause problems. Dean Winchester always finds a way to cause problems.”

Sam smiled wryly, “Tell me about it. I need an associate. Get me somebody. A shark.”

“Waiting in the reception for you. I got Jacob Styne waiting.”

“He good?”

“He’s a shark.”

“Good, send him in”, Sam said straightening up in his seat. Missouri went out and let in a tall brown haired man who looked like he could have been JR Ewing’s illegitimate son. Sam raised an eyebrow at him and Jacob smiled back.

“Howdy boss. I hear you need someone to handle your divorce”, he said in the thickest southern accent Sam had ever heard. Sam stared sidelong at him; there was something…fishy about this guy that Dean might pick up on and make life difficult for all of them as a result. But he did look like a shark and that’s what Sam needed.

“I need someone to…not…handle my divorce. I need you to stall the fuck out of any and all of it. Fail..and you’re fired.”

Jacob stared at her bemused, “Fair enough”, he said in his thick accent, “And if I succeed?”

Sam smiled but there was no amusement in it, “Blank cheque Jacob. You can have whatever you want.”

Jacob nodded in satisfaction holding out his hand, “Deal”, he said. Sam stretched his hand out slowly and shook.

∞

Tyson Brady was waiting, suitcase in hand lounging on the leather luxury couch that sat in the foyer. He had one leg over the other swinging nonchalantly, looking quite at home. Sam wanted to kill him and not just because he introduced Sam to Jess in another world. There was just something about Brady that rubbed him the wrong way. Okay, maybe it _was_ the Jess thing but this new bromance with Dean wasn’t helping. Like at all.

His eyes glazed over for a minute as he got lost in a fantasy where he was tearing Brady apart…with his teeth. It was great, there was gore everywhere, Brady’s intestines were trailing about on the floor leaking food and shit…Sam smiled to himself, imagining it.

“What’s so funny”, a deep honey gravel voice asked at his shoulder. He suppressed the shiver that wanted to take over his body.

“Nothing”, he said turning to look at the freckles on Dean’s nose. He wanted to lean forward and kiss them and the inability to do that almost made him double over with pain. It really was enough. He grabbed Jacob’s arm and pulled him into the coat closet on the right, slamming the door behind him. He took hold of Jacob’s lapel and slammed him against the wall.

“You get me my husband back. Do.you.understand?” he growled.

“Yassuh”, Jacob replied with a feral smile.

 

 

 


	23. Down the Middle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The lawyers get together.

Dean watched Sam drag his lawyer into the closet and slam it behind him. For one horrible moment he wondered if he’d been overcome with lust and was busy making out right there in front of Dean and Tyson Brady…well not in front of them but close enough. He hadn’t seen the lawyer Sam had arrived with before and he thought he knew all of Sam’s associates. Had Sam taken on some new guy in the few weeks that they’d been on the outs or was this man more than a lawyer to his brother? The thought of his brother having a lover was curiously upsetting. Very upsetting. Unacceptable even. Which was very inconvenient considering they were in the process of getting a divorce and he knew from first hand experience just how randy his brother was.

He pushed the thought away from him, tried to tell himself that he couldn’t care less what his brother did, but when they emerged from the closet and Jacob’s collar was all askew, Dean found that his hands were fisted all without consulting his upper brain. He had to will them to stay down and not sock this guy in the jaw for disrespecting his home and letting his brother put hands on him in that home, in front of him, like it meant nothing. He transferred the glare to Sam who raised his eyebrows as if puzzled. Bastard. He knew exactly what he’d done.

“Finished?” Dean bit out, mouth thin and pale with fury.

“Yeah”, Sam said matching his tone although the furrow between his brows tried to imply that he didn’t know what Dean was on about.

Sam gestured that they should all retire to the office with a flick of his eyes at the kitchen where Gen was pretending to move dishes about and the kids were on the floor shouting and playing some game with the remains of their cereal now liberally spread everywhere on said floor.  They all moved to the office and Dean slammed the door behind them.

“So, according to my understanding, we’re attempting to divide the house into two separate living areas and each of you will take one?” Brady began; the skepticism apparent in his eyes.

“Yeah”, Sam said with unnecessary aggression.

“Well, I think the best thing is for you to leave it to us then, and we’ll consult you where necessary.”

“No”, both of them said together and then turned to each other and _almost_ grinned before they remembered that they weren’t in this together anymore.

“Why not?” Jacob asked. It was the first time he’d spoken in Dean’s hearing and he looked sharply at the lawyer, narrowing his eyes at the accent. This one was from the deep south but that lazy drawl said dangerous in more ways than one. Dean was liking him less and less by the second.

“Because, we know the house, how it works, which parts are more used by whom…it makes sense for us to be present”, Sam said.

Jacob nodded his head, “Alright then”, he said and took a seat _without being invited to do so_. Dean was so over him already. He gave Sam a look that said more clearly than words, “Really dude?”

Sam gave him his blank stare like he had no clue what Dean was on about.

∞

The lawyers were sharks.

∞

The house had three floors. The ground floor which was dedicated to the living room, breakfast nook, sunroom, dining area, kitchen, laundry room, play room and entertainment centre. The basement was chiefly used for storage, divided into two. On one side was an extensive wine collection that Sam had collected over the years. On the other were machine parts, and the world’s largest known porn magazine collection. Dean had kept up the habit of collecting but he hadn’t had much time over the years to really enjoy them. What with the twins occupying one half of his time, Sam the other and his occupation taking whatever was left. Still it was meticulously and chronologically filed, dusted weekly and updated regularly. There were two classic cars parked in the five car garage that Dean was currently in the process of restoring. The other three spaces were occupied by the Impala, Sam’s truck and a Bugatti that he used when he was feeling like he needed to be a boss. Usually when he was meeting other boss types who would judge him by the car he drove. Celebrities and such. Why just last week he’d taken a meeting with George Clooney to oversee the disbursement of funds from his latest ‘Not on My Watch’ project. Definitely a Bugatti meeting.

Upstairs were five bedrooms, all ensuite. Also three showers and two toilets. A small flight of stairs led to the all wooden attic which had a massive collection of books, some of which were one of a kind editions on subjects as diverse as demon origins and the physics behind elementals. Next to the library was a Jacuzzi which was used exclusively by Sam and Dean when they wanted to get away from everyone else in their lives for a bit. Or rather when Sam wanted to get away. Dean was quite happy to soak himself in the daily minutiae of their lives seemingly without tiring even a little.

All that would have to be divided down the middle in a way that was satisfactory to both parties.

∞

It needed the lawyers to be sharks.

 


	24. This is Your Half, This is Mine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The house gets divvied up.

Dean looked around the large mahogany table that Sam kept in his office for conferences. He sometimes used it when the partners needed to discuss matters that were apparently nobody else’s business at the office. Dean never asked.

It now seated only four people; Dean and Brady on one side and Sam and his big hulking southerner of a lawyer on the other. Dean grinned as he watched the three lawyers gear up for  whatever.

“I feel like I’m at a disadvantage here being the only non-lawyer”, he quipped because that was apparently what he did.

Brady covered Dean’s hand which was lying on the arm of his chair with his own.

“Don’t worry”, he said with a grin, “I’ll take care of you.”

There was a low key continuous growling in the room of a sudden and Dean quickly removed his hand from under Brady’s before the latter’s head was separated from his neck by the rabid wolf across the conference table. He had known that choosing Tyson Brady as a lawyer would push all of Sammy’s buttons and to be honest he did not much like the man himself…but he’d been hurt and lied to. He was allowed to be petty; he was entitled. For once in his life…

∞

It was a blood bath. But in the end, they got it done. It took two bottles of whisky, three fist fights, several broken glasses, a cracked table and a yellow line of tape demarcating one side of the house from the other. Sam got the study because he needed it for work, he got everything in the south side of the house. He offered to share the Jacuzzi but Dean wasn’t interested; he was fine with access to the attic library. Next order of business was to come up with a schedule for spending time with the kids. Sam wanted bed times because he worked late; all of them, but Dean wasn’t ready to give them all up. They compromised on Sam having four days and Dean three. Breakfast was had in the kitchen and Sam didn’t see why they couldn’t all sit together on that one. The kitchen was divided right down the middle so Dean was willing to concede communal breakfast so long as everyone stayed on their side. Sam rolled his eyes hard at that but Dean would not be moved.

“Who gets our bedroom Dean?” Sam asked looking at him with huge puppy eyes.

“You can have it”, Dean said leaning back, as far from those eyes as the back of the chair would let him. They stared at each other, for a moment, everyone else disappeared.

“Dean”, Sam whispered.

Dean’s eyes dropped and he took a deep breath, shuddering slightly before looking back up. He pushed back his chair and stood up.

“Time for a break”, he said reaching for the third bottle of whisky. Brady and Jacob looked as fresh as daisies. This was fun for them. The fraught emotion of the brothers was ambrosia for them. Nothing like the smell of despair in the morning to really get their hearts pumping.

∞

Brady took Dean aside after the meeting.

“I did what you wanted, but I need to tell you that it’s a bad idea.”

“You think I don’t know that? I know that boy; he’s up to something. This is a stall. Thing is, I need to know what. I won’t be blindsided again.”

Brady’s eyes narrowed, “What if he gets the drop on you first.”

Dean smiled, a cold cold thing that made Brady take one step back. He’d always thought that maybe Sam wore the pants in this family.  He might have been wrong about that.

“He won’t”, Dean said, “I’ll see him coming this time.”

“Can I ask you a question?” Brady asked after a few minutes of silence.

“Shoot.”

“Why are you even with this guy?”

Dean studied him with narrowed eyes and then said, “I love him. He’s the most important thing in the world to me, after my children.”

∞

_“I love him. He’s the most important thing in the world to me, after my children.”_

The words played over and over in Sam’s head. He’d been heading out to the car to collect his briefcase when he’d overheard them. He didn’t know how he felt about that. For one thing, Dean was the most important thing in his life; number one. The kids came a close second but Dean was…everything. He knew that he’d occupied that spot for Dean too. Seemed like the kids had supplanted him now. He didn’t know how to feel about that. I mean they were his kids too. He could sympathize, but something inside him twisted with pain to think he’d been supplanted. On the other hand Dean had used ‘love’ in the present tense. Maybe there _was_ hope after all.

 

 


	25. Let's Get Animal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam misunderstands how things stand. He gets impulsive.

Dean was in the middle of a confusing dream where he was talking to a woman. Not that the woman was confusing; it was just that they seemed to be covered in a swirling black mist of smoke. Like they’d just performed a mass exorcism and demons were smoking out everywhere around them. He and the woman didn’t seem too bothered about the smoking out demons or the darkness they were obviously in. In fact, they both seemed pretty unbothered. They were having a conversation. About saving each other of all things. In the back of his mind, dream-Dean was wondering where the hell Sam had gotten to. He was the actual exorcism expert. Hell he could recite that shit backwards. Maybe the woman was supposed to represent Sam. She was certainly attractive and Dean _did_ feel drawn to her…dreams didn’t have to make sense after all.

He was suddenly awake and alert, squinting into the dark, wondering what had woken him. There was a soft footfall and he smiled. Probably Jasmine seeking the comfort of his bed. She’d been doing that off and on since…’the fight’ he and Sam had been in. She was scared, Dean could tell. He felt bad that he couldn’t reassure her; let her know that everything would be fine…eventually. _He_ didn’t know if everything would be alright; eventually or otherwise. He just hoped they could come out of this a family. A weight settled over him and unless Jasmine had undergone some sort of expanding spell, it wasn’t her. warm breath skated behind his ear and the weight settled over him, something rock hard poking at his ass. He jerked in shock as two hands closed over his arms, holding him still. He surged upward, fighting against the restraining weight but then Sam slammed him back down, pressing downward against his ass cheeks, breath hot on his neck.

“You want this”, he whispered into Dean’s ear and Dean wanted to deny it with every fibre of his being; wanted Sam to leave him cold and unmoved…but his body was conditioned to react to Sam’s in just one way now and his dick was already throbbing and leaking beneath him. Much to his chagrin and shame. It would take a lot more than Sam ending their world apparently, before Dean didn’t want him. He _didn’t_ want him though. Not like this. Not after…everything. His body just needed to catch up with the new reality.

“Dean”, Sam murmured into his ear, breath uneven and body hot, “Dean”, he said again, voice reverberating with lust.

“Sammy what are you doing?” Dean breathed.

“I’m giving us what we both want”, Sam replied, mouth to Dean’s ear.

“Oh yeah? And what is that?” Dean asked as if he didn’t know.

Sam licked a stripe down from Dean's neck to just below his hairline behind his ear. Dean couldn’t help the shudder that went through him and Sam’s body jerked above his, penis pressing down between his ass cheeks.

“Dean”, Sam’s shaky voice made tendrils of want shoot down from his head to his feet and he stiffened trying to will it away.

“Sam. Stop”, he said.

“Say it like you mean it”, Sam said kissing him delicately against his jaw. Dean could hear the smile in his voice.

“Stop”, he said again louder and Sam moaned.

“I love it when you get all command-y Dean. Tell me what to do. Go on”, he said grinding his hips slowly and sensuously against his brother.

“Sam. I’m not playing”, Dean said even as his breath quickened.

“Neither am I”, Sam said as he used his arm to pin Dean down while his other hand trailed downward to free his penis from the confines of his track suit bottom. He grasped the waist of Dean’s PJs and pulled so his arse was on display.

“Oh God. Beautiful”, Sam whispered. Dean suppressed the shudder that wanted to shake him and tightened his butt cheeks.

“You gonna rape me now Sammy?”, he demanded. Sammy reached forward, burrowing between Dean’s body and the bed to put his hand on Dean’s rock hard penis.

“Rape?” he whispered in Dean’s ear.

Dean took a breath, eyes closed as Sam ran a hand up and down his member, praying for strength, “What happened to sticking to your side of the house Sam? You’re in breach of contract right now, you know that right?”

“I love it when you forget the pretty but dumb act Dean darling. Does it mean anything that I’m willing to risk it all for you?”

“Yeah it means something Sam. It means you need to be stopped before you _do_ destroy everything”, Dean snapped unable to stop his hips from surging forward chasing the pleasure Sam’s hands were giving him.

“Destroy everything? Like what? Your self control?” Sam simultaneously did something with his finger tip as he said it that made Dean grunt in startlement and rut into the bed, unable to control himself. Sam’s penis was rubbing frantically against Dean’s bare butt and his breath was hot and hard against Dean’s ear, breath fanning against that very sensitive part of his anatomy, making him want to squirm and moan and come.

“This doesn’t fix anything”, Dean cried with a strained voice as he surged forward into Sam’s hand and came. He could feel the spreading wetness as Sam ejaculated on his arse and God help him, it caused an inexplicable warmth curl in his stomach.

“Dean”, Sam moaned as his body slumped on top of his brother’s.

“Get off me!”, Dean snapped.

Sam dragged his body off his brother, landing on his feet beside the bed before taking a deep breath to steady himself. Before he was quite steady though, the world went black.

 


	26. Capture, Release

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is for my sis who finally got married on Friday.

He woke up to a throbbing head and aching limbs. He tried to lift his hand to rub at his forehead but found that he couldn’t move it. He struggled to open his eyes, but the moment the light seeped in there was a spike in his headache so he closed his eyes again.

“Dean?”, he whispered softly, hopefully.

“Yeah Sam?” Dean replied from somewhere nearby.

“Hurts”, he said waiting for his brother to make it better.

“I know Sam. A blow to the back of the head will do that to ya. Can you open your eyes?” Dean asked. He sounded really impassive. Sam was puzzled. Usually, when he was hurt, Dean was generally upset. Why did he sound like he was least concerned when Sam was clearly dying here? Sam tried to frown but that just hurt his head more.

“You gonna help me?” he asked Dean when there was no pressure on his forehead from Dean’s hand pressing down to take his temperature; no frantic hands feeling along his body for unseen wounds…Why didn’t Dean care that he was _hurting?_

“I’m gonna help you sit upright okay? Give you some water to drink. But only if you promise to behave”, Dean said. Sam almost frowned again but remembered in time that he wasn’t doing that. That it hurt.

“Okay Dean”, he said quietly instead. He felt familiar hands grasp him then. Lift him up and sit him down against a wall. He tried to move his hands again, but realized that they were securely tied behind his back.

“Dean? Why are my hands tied?” he asked breathing speeding up with anxiety. Was Dean possessed?

“I didn’t want to take any chances”, Dean said and he felt the rim of a round shaped container against his lips. He opened his lips against his better judgment and let whatever cool liquid Dean was feeding him trickle down his throat. He decided it was time to try opening his eyes again. After a few tries, he found that if he squinted, the stabbing feeling in his brain wasn’t so bad. And he was able to see through the smallest slit he could manage to see a bit of Dean’s face. Dean’s impassive, distant face, keeping a perimeter around him; he was in the basement, tied to the piping; hands _and_ feet. What was up with that?

“Take any chances Dean? At what?” he asked.

Dean shrugged with just his mouth, “You’re strong Sam; and when you wolf out, you’re even stronger. You also seem to have lost what little conscience you ever had. You don’t seem to know where the line is anymore Sam. You act like an animal. I can’t just sit back and allow you to do whatever you want.”

“What did I do Dean that was so bad?”  
Dean snorted a laugh, “Oh, so did you just block it out or…?”

“Block what out?” Sam asked, completely bewildered.

“You. Sexually assaulting me”, Dean said and he didn’t even crack a smile. Sam actually opened his eyes all the way, staring at Dean in shock, waiting for the punch line, or for Dean to laugh or snort or something. After Dean just continued to look at him, Sam threw back his head and laughed and laughed. It was too funny. What? Dean was accusing him of sexual assault? Dean Winchester?

“Is it just me or is that the most ridiculous thing you ever said?” he asked Dean.

Dean just nodded his head sadly, “I figured you saw nothing wrong with what you did. That’s the most worrying part of this whole scenario.”

“Worrying?”

“Yeah. You have no sense of right and wrong anymore Sam. You’re dangerous.”

“I’m dangerous”, Sam repeated in a deadened tone, “So…what Dean? You’re going to kill me now? Demon blood, letting Lucifer loose, letting you turn into a vampire…and the thing that breaks the camel’s back is a little sex?”

“I guess I finally see you clearly”, Dean said, “But in case you forgot, you and me are in the middle of a divorce due to the whole, ‘you broke our world and lied to me about it’ thing.”

“Yeah but you love me”, Sam protested.

“I do”, Dean agreed.

“So why?!?”, Sam asked.

“I will always love you Sam, that doesn’t give you carte blanche to do whatever you want.”

“I thought you wanted it too.”

“Oh yeah? What gave you that impression?”

Sam shrugged, “I don’t know; maybe it was the boner you were sporting. Or coming all over the sheets groaning my name. Maybe it’s the fact that you told your lawyer that you love me. I don’t know. One of those.”

“Are you just that clueless or are you deliberately missing the point Sam?”

“I must be just that dumb Dean because I don’t get it.”

Dean stood up, “I’ll leave you to just think about things for a while. Think about your children, and me, and whether you want to ever see us again. I’ll see you later Sam”, he said and walked up the stairs, not giving Sam another look. As he reached the door, he looked back at Sam, eyes sad and distant; then he switched off the light and left.

“Dean!”, Sam called desperately afraid of that final look Dean had given him. Did he not intend to come back? Was that goodbye. If Dean wanted to disappear with the kids, he could so do it. And Sam would never find him. He couldn’t let that happen. He couldn’t let Dean go like that. Fine maybe he’d misread things but all of this was so totally unnecessary. He needed to get out of these restraints. He needed…he needed to…convince Dean. Which probably meant staying tied up till he came back. But what if he didn’t come back? What if he was packing up the kids _right now_ and leaving? Sam couldn’t risk it.

He could feel his canines elongating as his breathing got more erratic and panic took over. His nails were lengthening and sharpening and his body hair was growing longer. He fisted his hands and pulled; nothing happened at first but then he closed his eyes, opened them, let out a roar and pulled again. The chains didn’t break but the piping bent out of shape. Sam did it again, pulling hard. The pipe broke and he was free from the wall, although his hands and feet were still tied together. He shuffled up the stairs to the door, shaking it frantically. It was locked tight, and something was blocking it from the other side. He pushed and shoved, hit the door with his shoulder. It shuddered on it hinges but did not open. Dean had him locked in good and tight.


	27. Hide and Seek

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam gets out.

The banging woke him up. At first he thought it was all in his head but then something was missing. The customary throbbing of his temporal vein that usually accompanied throbbing headaches was missing. As was the blinding pain and vertigo. He opened his eyes cautiously, wondering if he was having a particularly vivid dream. His eyes fell on the wooden floor, on which his face was lying. He reached out a hand to lift himself up and found that he was still securely tied. It hadn’t been a dream. Dean really had locked him in the basement. And tied him up. And he’d passed out from…probably the tryptophan coma following the adrenaline rush that accompanied his wolfing out. He didn’t even remember it. But he remembered the panic and the sheer unalderated fear that caused it. That was when he realized that the banging was coming from the other side of the securely locked door.

Which meant that Dean probably _hadn’t_ taken the kids and ran. Upside.

Sam wiggled his way back down the stairs and flopped onto the bed, breathing hard with exertion. He needed some sort of concrete plan which didn’t involve doing idiotic things and getting himself locked in basements. It was getting pretty tedious. He lay there breathing and an interminable amount of time passed, marked by banging and shouting on the other side of the door. Finally he heard the locks on the door being turned. He didn’t turn his head; he hadn’t yet come up with a plan and wasn’t ready to face Dean. He tried to see this from  Dean’s point of view; to understand why he would lock him in here in a misguided attempt to help him or something. Sam wasn’t exactly sure what the end game was. he just knew he had the hardest time containing his explosive anger at Dean, at the situation, at the fact that there didn’t seem to be anything he could do about anything. About the uncertainty of his life; about whether or not Dean still loved him.

He had to believe the latter was true. Had to. It was the stone number one of his life. what he banked on the most to make life worth living. Without that, what else was there? So he didn’t want to look into Dean’s eyes and maybe find that the love was gone. He didn’t want to look in Dean’s eyes and see indifference. That would kill him; he would much rather be dead. Yet. At the same time he was so angry. At Dean. For taking everything so hard; for not being his usual forgiving self. Dean was supposed to forgive him _anything_. That was the deal. He gave up everything he ever wanted to be with Dean…and Dean forgave him anything. It was unspoken, but understood. At least Sam had thought it was.

“Mr. Sam _what is going on?_ ” Genevieve asked in an urgent whisper. Sam turned his head in surprise to see her putting down a tray laden with sandwiches, a salad, French fries and a tall glass of lemonade. His stomach growled with approval.

“Genevieve. What are you doing here?” No way Dean had sent her. They had been so careful to keep this feud they were having to just between them.

“Mr. Dean told me to make up a plate for you. That he would come and collect it. But he got dragged into an argument between the carpenter and the contractor; something about the partition on the second floor…and I knew he was keeping you here and the key was right there and I wanted to check on you so….” She finished breathlessly.

Sam knew she was full of shit; she was just so damned curious all the time. Always needed to know everything that was going on. She was probably panting with glee at the shenanigans going on in the house. Her eyes wide and ready to hear his side. Sam closed his own, praying for strength, trying to resist temptation. He could get her to release him; get her to let him go…but at what cost? He sighed deeply and his mouth opened of its own accord.

“Dean seems to be under the delusion that I’m some sort of dangerous psycho. He hit me over the head and locked me in here”, he said eyes still closed. He heard Genevieve’s gasp, half glee half shock; this was probably the best piece of gossip she’d heard all year, “I need you to let me out.”

Even as he said it, a voice in his head chanted.

_‘Don’t do it Sam.’_

But the other voice, the angry one, the one which felt betrayed and misunderstood, was stronger.

“How?” Genevieve asked.

“Do you have a bobby pin on you?” he asked eyes still closed.

“Yes”, she said and he could hear her fumbling with her hair. She placed a long thin metal pin in his hand and he turned it around and picked the lock of his handcuffs. So he was able to move his arms and legs and untie himself from the ropes.

“Thank you Gen”, he said rubbing at his wrists, “Could you go up and check if the coast is clear?”

“Yes of course”, Gen said hurrying as fast as she could on her fat legs. The excitement on her face was palpable. She peeked out, looking around and then turned around to whisper dramatically, “The coast is clear”, she said.

“Good”, Sam said brushing past her and leaving the basement. He walked out the door, wondering if he should go find Dean, find out what the fuck all the banging was about…or get the fuck out of dodge before Dean realized he was free. He hesitated a little too long.

“Daddy!” a blur of short pudgy feet and long brunette hair came at him like a cannonball and Jasmine leapt into his hands, without the slightest doubt that he would catch her…which he did.

“Jasmine”, he said kissing her hair as she hugged him tight.

“Daddy. Come play!”, she practically shouted in his ear, “Come play hide and seek with Papi, Jupiter and me. I’m winning”, she confided. Jasmine was definitely more his child than Dean’s. She didn’t understand the concept of losing.

“Yeah? That’s great baby. But Daddy’s really tired right now; and icky. I gotta go take a shower first, then I’ll come play okay?”

Jasmine leaned forward and sniffed at him, “You don’t smell so bad Daddy. I won’t tell Papi and Jup you didn’t take a bath. Then they won’t laugh at you and you’ll be able to play”, she reassured him. In spite of himself, Sam chuckled.

“That’s very sweet of you Jazz my girl; but I _want_ to shower.”

“How did you get out?” Dean’s voice came from the top of the stairs, buzzing with tension and trying to disguise it for the sake of Jazz in Sam’s arms and Jupiter, who stood behind Dean. Sam smiled, “Didn’t you hear? I was It. I had to come find you.”


	28. I'm A Celebrity; Get Me Out of Here!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam takes back the power

Dean stared into Sam’s constantly changing eyes and Sam stared into Dean’s green orbs. There was a lot of noise going on, banging, hammering, yelling, the kids; but somehow it all faded into the background of their Mexican stand off.

_Ohhh, we halfway there,_

_Oh! Oh! Living on a prayer_

The unmistakable sounds of Sam’s ring tone broke the impasse and he reached for his phone. The impasse might have been broken but the eye contact remained.

“Yeah?” he barked into his Samsung Galaxy S5.

“Boss, enough with the vacation or the moping or whatever it is you’re doing. You are needed at work”, Missouri’s irritable voice broke the spell they were under but good.

“Why? What’s going on?” Sam asked looking down at where Jasmine was attempting to climb him like a tree.

“What’s going on? Where do I start? Lindsay’s been arrested again; she wants you, personally, to lead her defense team this time. Otherwise she’s threatening to leave us. You know she’s our most steady income. Then there’s Tay Tay whose been caught with a gram of coke at the airport. Silly airhead forgot to ditch it before she got on the plane. She needs us to keep this quiet and deal with it off book else that nice white girl next door image of hers goes down the drain. Diddy wants more money from his Ciroc deal. He feels he’s earned it. And that’s just the celebrity clients. When are you coming in?”

Sam was breathless just listening to her. He looked up at Dean again, having transferred Jasmine to his hip. He was walking slowly down the stairs, eyes on him, looking as gorgeous as Cinderella probably did on her own stairway. Damn him. Sam wanted to devour him there and then but he knew he couldn’t. He knew that wasn’t the way to win him back. What was though? He was going out of his _mind_.

“I’ll be in, in an hour. Hold the fort till then”, he said to Missouri as he watched Dean. Maybe going in to work was a good idea after all; hell Missouri was a manipulative little bitch of a witch – she probably knew a trick or two to bring Dean crawling back to him, hat in hand, begging for _Sam_ to take him back. He needed to utilize his resources better. All of them. Not looking away from Dean, he bent his head and kissed Jasmine on the head.

“Darling, that was office wanting me to come in. So that means I can only play hide and seek for ten minutes. But how about when I come back, we all go to that pizza place y’all love so much. Benny’s is it called?” he asked as the children screamed their approval almost bursting his eardrum with how excited they were. What with his heightened bat hearing and all…

He winced internally, noting the thunder on Dean’s face with approval. He wouldn’t be able to get out of it without disappointing the kids. And Dean hated to disappoint the kids. Sam bit back a smile and hid his face in Jasmine’s soft brown hair to hide how pleased he was. He put her down gently and turned away counting loudly.

“I’m counting till ten then I’m coming for you!”, he growled in a mock scary voice and the kids screamed and ran off. He could hear the tiny pitter patter of their footsteps as they frantically looked for hiding places. Dean’s more heavier footsteps though, those he didn’t hear. Which meant he was still standing at the foot of the stairs, staring at him. Sam hunched up his shoulders so his shirt could ride up. He wanted Dean to have an unimpeded view of his ass.

When he got to ten he turned around, smile at the ready. Dean was standing stock still at the foot of the stairs, glaring at him. Sam walked up to him, smile widening and touched his shoulder lightly.

“Tag. You’re it”, he said softly.

“What are you doing Sam?” Dean growled.

Sam’s eyebrow went up, “Playing with my kids. Why? What are _you_ doing?” he asked all innocence.

Dean shook his head and walked away.

∞

“Hey boss, about time”, Missouri said handing him files as he breezed into the office exactly 39 minutes later.

“Get me Lindsay on the line, tell Taylor that she better be ready to cough up a million dollars to pay people off and set up a golfing date with diddy for tomorrow morning.”

Missouri smiled, “Yessir”, she said.

“And then I’d like to see you in my office? Twenty minutes”, he said.

“Yessir”, Missouri replied, wolf smile widening.

Sam slammed his door closed behind him and got to work. This money wouldn’t make itself.


	29. Love is Confusing Sometimes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean and Sam talk

Dean walked into the kitchen eyes already narrowed, staring at Genevieve.

“Gen? dearest? Did you let Sam out of the basement?” he asked in what he figured was a fairly mild tone.

“Er…yes?” Gen said.

“Why did you do that?” Dean asked in the same mildly interested tone belied by the tenseness of his body.

“Erm because…”, Gen said looking uncertain.

“I would really appreciate it if next time you felt the need to interfere in our business? That you didn’t.”

“Yeah sir. Of course”, Gen said nervously moving plates around.

“Thank you Gen”, Dean said, “You mind watching the kids for an hour or two? I have an errand to run.”

“That’s what I’m here for Mister Winchester”, she said not looking at him at all. Dean nodded and exited the kitchen. Only then did Gen let out the breath she was holding.

“Man”, she whispered shaking her head.

∞

Dean walked into Sam’s office as he was on the phone, extorting money from Taylor Swift. He stopped in the middle of the room as Sam frowned at him and stared at his brother with a death glare.

“What?” Sam asked hanging up.

“We can’t go on like this”, Dean said.

“Agreed”, Sam said.

“So?”

“So forgive me already so we can go back to living happily ever after!”

Dean laughed bitterly, “Oh yeah, that easy is it?”

“It is that easy. Dean. You know that all you gotta do is say. Just forgive me already; and tell me what to do to make it better. I’ll do it.”

“How do you make killing off the entire state of Texas better Sam? What’s the appropriate punishment for that?”

“You tell me and I’ll do it. You want me to kill myself? I’ll do it. Just _tell me_.”

Dean was pacing up and down the room, “How does killing yourself help?”

“Exactly my point. It doesn’t. Nothing can undo what I did. all I can do is try to be better. And I will. Just give me a chance.”

“Why should I?” Dean asked.

“Because…because I coulda shut my mouth and not told you shit; I coulda left you in the dark and you wouldn’t have been any the wiser. But I didn’t. I told you. Because I didn’t like keeping stuff from you. I wanted you to know what I did because….well just because!”

Dean had frozen midstride, staring at Sam.

“Are you sorry?” he asked after an extended silence.

Sam shrugged, “I’m sorry. I’m sorry that people died; I’m more sorry that you hate me now. No that’s not true. I’m not sorry that you hate me. I can’t _stand_ it. It makes me truly crazy. I need it to stop.”

“What about what I need Sam?” Dean asked.

“ _What_ do you need? Tell me , its yours. Anything.”

“I _need_ to be able to trust that you won’t go ending the world because I turned my back for a second. I _need_ to be able to know that you know what’s right and what’s wrong. I need to fucking _know_ that I can trust you to know right from wrong.”

“I get it. I do. I’ve been reckless and stupid and careless. I do get it. I promise you. It wasn’t…I wasn’t…this wasn’t…”, Sam sighed audibly. Clearly he didn’t have the words he needed.

Dean was looking at him. Really looking. Suddenly he stepped forward skirting the desk so he was standing in front of Sam. He stared into Sammy’s eyes as they narrowed and yellowed, pupils getting bigger as he stared back at Dean.

“Your pupils get bigger when you’re aroused”, Dean whispered.

“Yes…I guess.”

“How did I not notice before? How did I not notice that your eyes change?”

Sam looked down his hair hiding his eyes as he shrugged, “I didn’t notice either.”

“Talk about willful blindness”, Dean said with wonder, eyes still on Sam.

Sam glanced up at him; his eyes back to normal, “Or…maybe…its new.”

“We need to find out more about your shit; all of your shit” Dean said.

“Yeah”, Sam agreed, “We can’t do that if we’re fighting all the time or you’re locking me in basements.”

“Okay, no basements. But you stay on your side of the divide”, Dean said. Sam looked up at him again, pupils still blown.

“Always?” he asked eyes on Dean’s lips.

“Yeah. Always”, Dean said but he didn’t move away. They stayed frozen like that for a time. Sam looking at Dean’s lips and Dean looking at Sam’s eyes. Then Sam raised his eyes to Dean’s and they widened with surprise and understanding.

“You’re aroused too”, he said as if he was discovering a new planet.

Dean shrugged.

Sam’s head moved forward of its own volition and then he stopped short just as his lips were about to touch Dean’s and pulled back.

“Sorry”, he whispered. Dean’s eyes widened and his hand rose and grabbed Sam behind the neck, pushing him forward so their lips met hard and sharp and desperate. Sam’s hands rose slowly, clutching onto Dean’s arms for dear life. He pulled Dean closer toward him so their bodies were flush against each other.

“Missed you man”, Sam whispered between kisses, “God want you so much.”

Dean angled his head so he could kiss deeper and one of Sam’s hands trailed upward to clamp around Dean’s neck and pull him even closer. He could feel Dean swelling against him, and swiveled his hips to create some friction. Dean moaned into his mouth and Sam pulled back reluctantly so he could swing Dean around and drop him unceremoniously on the leather couch against the wall. He bent over his brother, fitting his lips to Dean’s again and nudging his legs further apart so he could settle himself between them.

“Uhhh”, Dean said arching upward as his hands wandered hungrily all over Sam’s body. Sam fished his hands between them, unzipping his fly and pulling himself out and then doing the same to Dean. He ran his hand up and down Dean’s dick, enjoying the silky hardness of it.

“Missed this”, he said against Dean’s lips and groaned when Dean bit his lower lip in response. His body rutted itself against Dean with absolutely no help from his brain. He caught his dick in his hand, rubbed it against Dean’s as if to say hello and then wrapped both dicks in his hands and began to massage them both together. Dean threw his head back and groaned out loud before his hand joined Sam’s,

Up and down; around and caress; thumbs on penis heads. Grabbing balls and squeezing. Harsh breathing and increased rutting. Dean wrapping his legs around Sam to bring him closer still. Precome leaking everywhere. Sam breathing in Dean’s ear, his hot breath waking nerve endings Dean had almost forgotten he had.

“Saa—aaa-mmm”, his name was a long drawn out moan of need, desire and reluctance. It was all that was needed to drive Sam over the edge. He made a sound like a dying cow as he lost it and that was apparently enough to drive Dean over the edge. The leather couch was a mess. Neither of them could find enough brain cells to care.

“This doesn’t change anything”, Dean said eventually as he ran his fingers through Sam’s hair.

“I know”, Sam replied head still on Dean’s chest.


	30. Is the Walking Dead for Real?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Happy Birthday to my son!  
> Dean and Sam and the kids; movie night.

“I can’t believe they have to be speeched into supporting Daryl. Like…how stupid can you get? How obvious is it that he’s the only one who knows what he’s doing?”

Watching the Walking Dead was actually Dean’s idea. He said that the kids were too young to be scared anyway and it was a good lesson in survival. Besides they could go to the park on any given Sunday and see a random zombie trying to eat brains so…

“Come to think of it, why would this world even _make_ a movie like Walking Dead?” Sam asked as he stuffed his face with popcorn. Dean turned to sharply eye him as if he’d discovered the fourth law of thermodynamics.

“Oh my God, yeah. Like why? Its not like they would have a zombie less existence regardless.”

“Maybe its like Star Wars. Like a completely alternate universe for them. Or like that universe we went to when we were trying to help Castiel? The one with no magic? They still watched us like tv…probably the same thing.”

Dean snorted, “Yeah….wonder if they still watchin’ us though.”

“What? Like this version of us or…?”

Dean shrugged, “Who knows? How many versions of us are there?”

Sam filled his mouth with popcorn and chewed thoughtfully for a while, “Well, we came here because this Sam and Dean died in the fire so maybe each world has its own.”

“Huh…so now our own world has no Dean in it…too bad for all the girls.”

Sam snorted, “Excuse you? I’m sitting right here.”

Dean threw him a glance then he opened his mouth and closed it again. They weren’t…what they’d been before, but they were not back…to where they’d been in the beginning. One make out session and waving the white flag of peace didn’t mean the divorce was off. It just meant the sulking and anger was pushed aside in favor of something more…civilized. Didn’t erase feelings though; Dean could acknowledge that especially since Sam _never_ hid his feelings. Not his lust or his possessiveness or his anger, his need…he was a veritable cornucopia of _feelings._ Dean absolutely did not know how they ever got along.

He glanced at Sam again, watching as he stuffed his face with popcorn; sharing the tub with Jupiter who was doing his level best to copy him. It was so…heartbreakingly domestic yet also just…heartbreaking. How was he to tear this apart? Did he really need to.

Dean took a deep breath and Sam turned to look at him at once.

“What?” he said.

Dean shrugged casting his eyes down at the kids, Jupiter trying to bite his way through the overflowing popcorn stuffed in his mouth and Jasmine, leaning against Dean as she watched the series as if there was an exam at the end.

“This is good”, he said.

Sam just continued to look at him as if he was expecting something more. Dean shrugged again and inclined his head. Sam nodded in agreement.

“Yeah”, he said.

“We need a paradigm shift”, Dean said. Sam laughed without sound.

“Shut up. I know three syllable words”, Dean said.

 

Sam just smiled with delight.

“I agree”, he said, “Any suggestions?”

Dean looked at him with narrowed eyes, “Well for one thing, no more pulling anymore psychopathic shit. No blurring lines, shifting boundaries or engaging in any behavior that requires you to justify anything to yourself. Or to me.”

Sam nodded his head, “Deal”, he said.

“No killing anyone or using anyone to achieve your own ends”, Dean continued. Sam frowned.

“Hey. I know how to behave”, he protested.

“Yeah? Well act like it.”

Sam opened his mouth to argue but then closed it again, pulling Jupiter more snugly against him.

“Let’s not complicate things with sex”, Dean said and Sam’s mouth was open before his brain was in gear.

“No”, he said.

“Sam-“

“No. absolutely not. You said, and I remember this vividly because you were so smug about it, that you never got into relationships because females were always punishing you by withholding sex and how messed up was that? So now _you’re_ the one being messed up…or being a female. Is that what you really want?”

Dean stared at him in disbelief before bursting into laughter.

“You are unbelievable Sam, you know that?”

Sam nodded curtly, “Its been said.”


	31. Get out of the car, Dean

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean gets some new insight

Dean was brushing his teeth when he heard the sound of someone moving in his…their… bedroom. He  didn’t assume Jasmine this time, just tied his gray robe tighter and exited the bathroom.

“Hey”, he said. Sam jumped a little bit.

“Hey yourself”, he replied sitting on the bed and twisting his fingers nervously.

“What you doin’ in ‘ere?” Dean asked leaning against the bathroom door.

Sam shrugged, “Just thought I’d come…hang out.”

“Hang out? Is that what the lawyers are calling it these days?”

Sam huffed a laugh and shrugged, looking at Dean as if he had caught him out fair and square.

“Can I stay? For a bit”, Sam asked looking the most puppy-like Dean had seen him in a while. It almost broke Dean’s heart to say no to that face.

“Sam…I just don’t think that would be a good idea right now.”

The way Sam’s face fell almost had Dean diving to the floor to pick it up.

“Sam…I’m just saying; I kinda can’t separate my feelings from my libido”, he tried again. Sam snorted derisively.

“Since when?” he asked.

“Since you dumbass”, Dean fired back right away.

Sam reared back as if shot, and nodded his head.

“So what are you saying? We can’t be together physically until you’re sure you love me again or…?”

Dean sighed, “Sam, I love you; I’l always love you. I just…”

“Can’t with me right now?” Sam finished for him.

“Exactly”, Dean said with a sigh. Sam sneered and stood up.

“I guess I should go then”, he said looking and sounding pissed off and possibly psychotic.

Dean sighed, “How about you hang out without any quotes?”

Sam’s lips turned down with anger.

“No thanks”, he said turning away, “I think I’ll just…turn in.”

Dean nodded in resignation. Sam did not take rejection well; even before he was a psycho chimera; he tended to react like a psycho. Okay then. Plan B.

“Please Sam. Stay. We need to talk, strategise about getting you clean or whatever.”

“Oh yeah, the only thing about me that interests you these days; fixing me.”

Dean rolled his eyes, “You know that that’s bullshit Sam. Get over yourself.”

“Get over myself. Thank you for the enlightening insight. I think I’ll just go, think about that now.” Sam said storming out of the room and slamming the door. Dean flopped down on his bed, expelling a breath in exhaustion. There was just no winning this one.

∞

He woke up to the sound of the monster truck revving up. He could see the full lights on through his window. The ones that were on top of the roof. What the fuck was Sam doing? He struggled out of bed and hustled to the window peering down at the driveway where Sam is revving up his engine and gunning it forward and back. Right in front of his truck is the impala, parked across the driveway, in the path of the truck. What the fuck was Sam doing? From this angle, it looked like he was preparing to ram the Impala. That couldn’t be it though because Sam was well aware that that would be suicide. And Sam was many things, but he wasn’t a suicidal.

“Sam…”, Dean said even though Sam couldn’t bloody hear him.

He turned around and ran for the door but then he skidded to a stop and froze when he heard the impact from below. There wasn’t any mistaking what that was. Dean turned slowly and returned to the window, he looked down, all the while praying. Sam was climbing his impala. He was climbing his impala with the massive wheels of his monster truck. If the Impala was made in Japan, it would be collapsing under the weight of that truck; good for nothing but scrap metal. As it was…its roof was completely concave. Sam was driving over it, a vicious and determined look on his face; no remorse; worse, no trace of madness to account for this totally unreasonable behavior.

“Samm!”, Dean shouted out the window.

Sam heard him. He looked up at him, monster truck still half on, half off his beloved car. He opened his mouth and said something to Dean. Dean didn’t have to hear it to know that Sam was talking shit. Probably about his precious car. Hell he was probably calling it ‘his precious car’ right now. Relishing in its destruction. As if Dean hadn’t rebuilt it from scratch more than once…

Sam reversed his truck, turned it slightly and drove over the car again; this time aiming for the engine. Dean was going to _eviscerate_ him. He turned around and ran out of the room and down the stairs. Sam must have known he was coming because he was standing in the doorway waiting, looking huge and intimidating. His eyes were still hazel though, and his nails were not talons so Dean counted that as a win. He also came down swinging and he was socking Sam in the jaw before he had a chance to open his mouth and spew whatever nonsense he was planning to spew.

Sam staggered backwards but he didn’t go down. Dean felt like his hand was broken.

_Fuck._

The sound of chuckling floated in from outside; Sam was laughing at him.

Excellent.

“What the fuck Sam?” he ground out holding his hand close to his chest.

Sam stepped closer to him, eyes narrowed with something, “You broke my heart. I broke yours. We’re even.”

“Are we Sam? Are we really?”

Sam huffed and turned away, brushing roughly against Dean as he climbed the stairs to his room.

“Goodnight…brother”, he said sarcastically.

Dean walked outside, examining the wreckage of the Impala with anger and sadness. Yeah it wasn’t the same car that they grew up in; but then, Dean had thought it meant as much to Sam as it did to him. Seems he was wrong. Wrong about a lot of things. For the first time, he wondered if he might actually have to kill his brother.

∞

He arrived at Sam’s office bright and early, waiting for Missouri to come in. he’d left Sam asleep. He guessed the late night of destruction and wreckage had worn him out. Whatever.

“Hey Miz. How’s tricks?” he asked when the secretary witch came in.

“Hey Dean. This is a surprise. Is something wrong with Sam?”

“Yeah. A lot is wrong with Sam and I have a feeling you might know what.”

Missouri stopped and stared at him, sitting heavily down in her seat.

“What did he do now?”

Dean shrugged, “Nothing much. Just destroyed my car last night coz I wouldn’t let him fuck me. No biggie.”

Missouri laughed.

“Glad you find this funny”, Dean said with a frown.

Missouri shook her head, “It isn’t that. It’s you. Trying to punish Sam by taking away his favourite toy and then wondering why he’s a destructive son of a bitch. Years of spoiling him Dean; giving in to his wants and needs and suddenly you turn around and become all Mr. No? what did you expect?”

“Not this”, Dean said.

“Yeah, I guess its unreasonable to expect of your brother. Not like he doesn’t have a history-“

“Don’t talk about my brother like you know him.”

Missouri shut up for about five seconds, “You came to me Dean.”

“Tell me how to fix him.”

Missouri gave a really put upon sigh, “You. Dean. You are the solution you’re looking for. When did the whole psycho behavior begin? When did he become a violent, out of control maniac as opposed to the mild mannered shark he used to be?”

Dean stared at her with narrowed eyes.

“When you put him out idiot. When you spurned him. You want your Sam back? Let him back in. Be the rock he’s always had to lean on; his compass. His guiding light. After that, all you have to do, is tell him what to do; and not to do.”

“I don’t want a puppet!”, Dean protested.

“Oh you don’t? Since when?”

Dean stood, swaying on his feet; an empty look on his face and utter devastation in his heart. Had he made Sam into his puppet?


	32. Conversations and Therapy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam and Dean start to look for resolution.

“Hey.”

“Hey.”

“Can I come in?”

Sam sat up from where he was lying on his bed and turned to face Dean.

“Sure. Are we breaking the boundary rule again or are you done with restricting my movements?”

Dean smiled painfully, “I just wanted to talk”, he said stepping slowly into the room and plopping down next to Sam on the bed.

“Talk huh?” Sam asked with a naughty side smile.

“Yeah. Talk. You know that thing you used to like doing?”

Sam huffed a laugh, “Yeah…okay. So all I gotta do to get you to want to talk is go psycho?”

“Good to know you know you went psycho.”

Sam laughed out loud, “Hey, I know your ‘O lord Sam’s gone psycho’ face at least.”

“Does it happen that often that I have a face for it?”

“Looks like.”Sam said with a shrug.

“It’s not…I don’t…I am not trying to hurt you or make you…think that”, Dean stammered.

“I know Dean.”

Dean took a deep breath, “I want to help you Sam; tell me how I can do that.”

Sam turned to face Dean, looking him full in the face and saying nothing for a minute.

“Dean, remember when Dad told you that if you couldn’t save me, you’d have to kill me?”

Dean jerked back in shock, “Are you crazy? We’re nowhere near there yet.”

“Yet? No. never mind. That’s not the point. The point is; learning that I had demon blood in me was almost a relief you know? At least it gave me an explanation as to why I always felt so…off.”

“You…did?”

“Yeah. I mean you can’t tell me you forgot what a pain in the ass teenager I was. and the anger issues? The discontentment with my life? I mean, I didn’t seem to fit anywhere…except maybe next to you in the Impala. I had no problem fitting there.”

“The dynamic duo”, Dean said with a smirk.

“Exactly. You and me…we always fit. Well…unless we didn’t.”

“Unless something _was allowed_ to come between us”, Dean corrected.

“Okay whatever. The point is I always felt like…something was wrong with me. I spent years loathing myself and lashing out because of it…now…”

Dean didn’t say a word, just stared at Sam.         

“Now…I guess I just embrace it. There is nothing I can do about it. I tried. I went to hell; a hundred and eighty years of torture – you’d think it would be enough to atone for…having this… _excrement_ …inside of me. But then I came back and…I wasn’t with you for even a month before I got you turned into a vampire. I had the chance to start anew; and that’s what I did with my time. Kill innocent people, treat you like crap. That’s me.”

“Why you so down on yourself all of a sudden?” Dean interrupted.

“All of a sudden? Just because I don’t talk about it doesn’t mean I haven’t always felt like this. You must have had at least, an idea…”

“I knew you were hung up on having demon blood in you. I didn’t know you basically felt like you were walking around with the darkness inside; obsessing over it.”

“Did you not? I feel like I complained to you a lot”, Sam said with a small laugh.

“You did…but…in case you hadn’t realized, I don’t really like to think of you in pain.”

“Yeah”, Sam said smugly his smile widening. Dean nudged him hard with his elbow.

“Get to the point”, he said.

“My point is…after I embraced the fact that I’m a chilly droid whose one saving grace is my love for _you_ …once I accepted that; life became easier. I was able to deal.”

“You are not a chilly droid”, Dean insisted.

“Oh yes I am”, Sam said with a sad laugh, “I cover it up real well with lots of sensitive shit but baseline? I don’t really care about much…except you. The kids. The rest is just details.”

“But can you control  your sociopathic tendencies or not?” Dean inquired making Sam laugh again.

“Generally? I think so. It helps when you help me”, he said shyly.

“That’s what Missouri said”, Dean said under his breath.

“What?”

“Nothing. What kinda help you need from me Sammy?”

He shrugged, ”I just, be with me okay? Don’t leave me alone with this.”

“Quid pro quo. What do I get out of this?”

“You get…my undying loyalty and honesty.”

“Achievable goals Sammy. Achievable goals.”

Sam laughed, “I’m being serious.”

“So am I Sam. I’ve known you since you were in diapers and keeping secrets? Its in your DNA.”

“Fine. How about, I don’t make a move without checking with you first?”

“Unsustainable.”

“Okay then what? I try to find a way to fix what I broke?”

“Mmm….I can work with that.”

Sam sighed with relief, “Okay then, yeah. Let’s do that. I think I know where to start.”

“You do?”

“Yeah. The real Missouri.”

“The real…?”

“She’s in a mental institution because she saw something…I think if we could find out what, it might be a start to setting my latest fuck up right.”

“You know that it might not-“

“I know it might have nothing to do with us…but I think it does.”

“Fine. I won’t kill your vibe. Let’s do this. You know where she is.”

“No. But I’ll find out.”

“Cool”, Dean said standing up.

“What you not staying the night?”Sam asked stretching out a hand to run down Dean’s arm. Dean shivered in reaction and hesitated for a moment.

“One thing at a time Sam. Let’s save it for later.”

“Kiss?” Sam negotiated. Dean smiled leaned down and pressed a lingering kiss on Sam’s cheek.

“Thanks”, Sam said.

“Anytime”, Dean replied walking out and shutting the door  gently behind him.

 


	33. Interlude

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> End of part one.

“Dean Winchester completes me.”

“Aww, you are such a sap.”

“No, that’s what it says right here, on this tattoo on your back.”

There was a flurry of movement, towels and pillows thrown about, “Fuck. What?!? Where?”

Sam threw back his head and laughed and laughed.

Dean glared, trying to hold on to his anger.

But he had forgotten.

Forgotten what that sound did to him.

Fuck.

He valiantly tried to contain the smile that was trying to break out on his lips.

“Shutup”, he growled.

Sam laughed some more.

It was hot out, the kids were in the pool screaming or fighting or just playing. Sam wasn’t sure. Dean was unmoved so he figured it was all under control. He’d been on his laptop, researching the online history of every Missouri he could find. They weren’t that many, but so far, nobody seemed to fit. Then he’d gotten tired of that and realized that he was here, in his house, lying next to Dean on their day beds, ‘supervising’ the kids as they swam. This was probably the closest to heaven he was ever gon’ get.

Well yeah there had been that whole shared heaven thing but he seriously doubted anyone would let him in there now. What with killing a whole state and abandoning an entire universe to the mercy of evil witches.

Which meant Dean didn’t get that heaven either. He couldn’t imagine a scenario where Dean would go without him. Even given everything that they were going through, Dean wouldn’t leave him.

He chanced a glance at his brother.

And then the words just vomited themselves out of his mouth.

His heart had literally stopped when he realized what he’d said.

They never said shit like that.

Like ever.

Fuck.

He had to cover.

Quick.

Thank God Dean bought the tattoo prank.

Thank God for prank wars and little brothers and expectations.

But even as he laughed he felt the lump in his throat.

He wanted to cry.

Because Dean Winchester _did_ complete him.

And he was so screwed.

**Author's Note:**

> This story popped in my head after binge reading wincest and feeling in need of a new direction. Haven't seen this particular story written, so I decided to write it. I'm a whore for feedback.


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